'A •' 
 
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 FIFTEEN DISCOURSES DELIVERED 
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 BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS • INTRO- 
 DUCTION BY L. MARCH PHILLIPPS 
 
JOSHUA REYNOLDS, bom in 1723 in 
 Devonshire, the son of the Rev. Samuel 
 Reynolds. Lived at Plymouth, 1746-9, 
 aftenvards going to Italy. Settled in London, 
 17^2, becoming fashionable portrait-painter. 
 Founded the Literary Club. In 1768 the 
 first president of the Royal Academy. Died 
 in 1792, and buried in St. Paul's. 
 
FIFTEEN DISCOURSES 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 
 
 LONDON: J. M. DENT & SONS LTD. 
 NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO. INC. 
 
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 Aldine House Bedford St, London 
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 Melbourne . Wellington 
 First Published in this Edition ipo6 
 Reprinud 1^28 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 The most careless reader of these Discourses of Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds will be struck by their frequent slight- 
 ing and depreciatory allusions to the great Venetian 
 colourists, and by the almost passionate note of warning 
 sounded in them against the teaching and influence 
 of these masters. The school of Venice is always re- 
 ferred to by Sir Joshua as the "decorative" school; 
 " mere elegance is defined as its principal object, and 
 its ornamental " character is affirmed to be totally 
 inconsistent with any achievement of the first order. 
 Tintoret and Veronese are selected for especial con- 
 demnation. " These are the persons who may be said 
 to have exhausted all the powers of florid eloquence to 
 debauch the young and inexperienced." They have 
 turned many painters ** from those higher excellences 
 of which the art is capable, and which ought to be 
 required in every considerable production." 
 
 It we seek more particularly the ground of Sir Joshua's 
 dislike of the Venetians, we shall find it in the fact that 
 that school was, as he says himself, engrossed by 
 the study of colour to the neglect of the ideal beauty 
 of form." Ideal beauty of form constituted, in Sir 
 Joshua's view, the only possible really noble motive 
 in art. He never for a moment, in criticism and 
 theory, admitted the possibility of colour constituting 
 such a motive. Colour, in his judgment, remained 
 always a quite secondary and merely decorative affair, 
 while the true greatness of the painting depended 
 entirely on its excellence as a study of form. In one 
 of his letters to the Idler he pushes this view to such 
 a length, and so entirely confines the idea of beauty 
 to form, and form alone, that he actually asserts that 
 the colour of a thing can have no more to do with its 
 beauty than its smell has. 
 
viii 
 
 Introduction 
 
 If it were an ordinary critic who wrote and reasoned 
 thus, we should pass by his judgments as indicative 
 merely of a totally defective colour sense. But to 
 suppose that Reynolds, of all men, was defective in 
 this respect would be absurd. The extraordinary thing 
 about him is that no sooner had he passed from the 
 lecture-room to his own studio than he proceeded to 
 demonstrate in his work his own intense appreciation 
 of that insidious school of colour against which he 
 was never tired of warning his hearers. He was 
 himself one of those victims whom Tintoret and 
 Veronese had debauched." He had stayed in Venice 
 but a few weeks, in Rome two years, and yet the ex- 
 ample of the Venetians had made incalculably the 
 deeper impression upon him. With all the force of 
 his judgment and reason he approved the teaching 
 of Michael Angelo, but with a warmth which had more 
 of emotion in it he adored the great colourists. Into 
 the examination of the methods by which these had 
 obtained their effects he threw himself with an energy 
 which amounted to downright excitement, and to his 
 thirst for information sacrificed even the paintings 
 that so allured him, rubbing and scraping away, as 
 we are told, the impasto of several valuable pictures 
 in order that he might investigate the composition of 
 the successive layers of colour. His own ceaseless ex- 
 periments in colour effects and the use into which he 
 was led of refractory pigments, resulting too often 
 in the cracking or peeling of his pictures, are a further 
 testimony to the hold which, entirely against his will, 
 Venice exerted over him. He recognised it himself 
 even while he submitted to it. In the last words 
 addressed by him to the Academicians there is a pathetic 
 consciousness of what he seems to have felt as his 
 own disloyalty in not sticking in practice to that great- 
 ness which his reason always assured him was pre- 
 eminent. He could claim to be an admirer only, not 
 a follower, of Michael Angelo. " I have taken another 
 course, one more suited to my abilities and to the 
 taste of the times in which I live. Yet," he exclaims 
 contritely, ** however unequal I feel myself to that 
 attempt, were I now to begin the world again I would 
 tread in the steps of that great master; to kiss the 
 
Introduction 
 
 ix 
 
 hem of his garment, to catch the slightest of his per- 
 fections, would be glory and distinction enough for an 
 ambitious man." 
 
 In practice devoted to Venice, in theory despising 
 her; in practice ignoring the great Florentines, in 
 theory strenuously upholding their ideals : such are 
 the contradictions one meets with in Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds, and certainly his judgments, and these 
 lectures in which they are contained, will never be 
 rightly understood until a clue to these contradictions 
 be found. 
 
 Let us remember, in the first place, that down to the 
 eighteenth century the native art of England had been 
 essentially an art of form. The great Gothic creative 
 epoch had exhibited its energy and power in archi- 
 tecture and sculpture alone. No great school of paint- 
 ing arose in the North to vie with the varied and rich 
 productions of the builders and sculptors of that age. 
 Such colour as was used was used in a subordinate or, 
 to use Sir Joshua's word, a decorative sense — to 
 enrich, that is, and add a brilliance to form. But it 
 was in form only, whether structural, as in the great 
 cathedrals, or statuesque, as in the innumerable and 
 beautiful figures and effigies which adorn or repose 
 in them, or expressed in the carved likeness of flowers 
 and foliage and animals and birds — it was in form, I 
 say, only that the Gothic genius displayed its real 
 power and initiative. 
 
 And this being so, the nature of the contributions 
 which the Gothic nations were to make to pictorial art 
 might almost, perhaps, have been foreseen. Drawing 
 rather than painting gave them the effects they sought, 
 and the art of wood engraving became in their hands 
 a natural and popular mode of expression. The power- 
 ful black line of the graver was found to be extraor- 
 dinarily effective in delineating mere form, and ac- 
 cordingly in this new art, first started in Europe about 
 the beginning of the fifteenth century, the Gothic races, 
 however hopelessly behind in delineation by colour, 
 took the lead. They treated it, indeed, quite frankly, 
 not as a pictorial but as a sculptural representation. 
 That is to say, they ignored aerial perspective and 
 effects of light and shade altogether, and made no 
 
X 
 
 Introduction 
 
 attempt to produce the illusion to the eye of a re- 
 presented scene or landscape. On the other hand, each 
 figure, or object, or animal was outlined with extraor- 
 dinary clearness and force, as if it were being de- 
 signed for a carving in relief. One has but to turn 
 from the sculptured work in wood or stone to the 
 wood engravings of the same period to recognise the 
 similarity in spirit between the two, and realise how 
 thoroughly genuine a product of its age the art of 
 engraving was. It carried on the Gothic temper and 
 characteristic view of nature and life. It loved the 
 same direct and literal statements, and its sole pre- 
 occupation was how to express them with as much 
 matter-of-fact precision as possible and invest them 
 with all the air of positive realities. Moreover, the 
 art, as it was developed in the North, betrays the same 
 strong popular sympathies that run through all Gothic 
 art. The same perception belongs to it of the sig- 
 nificance and interest of all homely objects and scenes, 
 and it loves to depict in the same way the details of 
 the life and labour of the common people. And if it 
 cannot give to these things the actual reality of con- 
 crete form, it still endeavours to attain this end so 
 far as can possibly be done by outline. Its instinct 
 is always to treat its subjects as things, never as 
 appearances. 
 
 Wood engraving, then, carries on directly the great 
 Gothic movement, and is part of that movement. It 
 continues to apply to life that measure of form which 
 had hitherto so completely satisfied the Northern 
 nations, but which was soon to satisfy them no longer. 
 Moreover, although this splendid Gothic outburst of 
 formative and structural art by degrees waned and 
 spent itself, yet still it remained the only aspect of 
 art of which the North had cognisance. The influence 
 of the Renaissance was for long accepted in the North 
 as a structural influence only. In England painting 
 remained a dead letter, and on the Continent the only 
 notable school which arose, the Dutch school, was re- 
 markable for just the characteristics which had always 
 distinguished Northern art — a love of the facts of 
 common life and a close, exact, and literal representa- 
 tion of form. In short, if we were to take our stand 
 
Introduction 
 
 xi 
 
 in the middle of the eighteenth century we should 
 find stretching behind us the long history of an art 
 which had developed with unexampled vigour all the 
 resources of form, but which had never been really 
 warmed and suffused by any great conception of the 
 value of colour. This was the atmosphere and world 
 of art into which Sir Joshua was born, and of which 
 his criticism is the outcome. 
 
 I will ask the reader now, in this brief survey of 
 ours of the currents that are carrying us on to the 
 moment of Reynolds's life and influence, to turn his 
 eyes southward to Italy, where he will perceive an 
 altogether new element in art gathering head and 
 preparing to exert an influence contrary to the old 
 influence of form over the rest of Europe. 
 
 I have always thought myself that, as the intel- 
 lectual and matter-of-fact qualities of the Western mind 
 are especially embodied in form, so the emotional and 
 sensuous qualities of the Eastern mind are embodied, 
 or find expression, in colour. However that may be, 
 it would seem to be certain that a conception of the 
 possibilities of colour quite unknown in Europe pre- 
 viously was gradually introduced into Italy during the 
 centuries which ensued between the collapse of classic 
 Rome and the rise of the Gothic nationalities by 
 Byzantine artists and architects arriving from Con- 
 stantinople and the Eastern empires. This new use 
 of colour, contributed by the East, and which was to 
 take deepest root wherever the influence of the East 
 had been most firmly established, is, moreover, quite 
 easy to understand and define. Gothic colour was used, 
 as I have said, subordinately to form and as one of 
 form's attributes, its range and limits being exactly 
 defined by the body of those objects it belongs to. 
 Oriental colour, on the other hand, is used quite differ- 
 ently. Instead of being handled by form, it is handled 
 by light and shade, and with the help of light and shade 
 it is at once enabled to overcome the limitations of 
 form and to develop a rich and ample scheme of its own 
 extending through the whole composition. The marks 
 of colour used in this sense are, I believe, invariably 
 these two : (i) It always employs its warmest and 
 richest hues; (2) it always melts away the edges and 
 
xii 
 
 Introduction 
 
 exactitudes of form, and suffuses them all in a uni- 
 versal sunny glow. 
 
 It was in the interiors of their mosaic churches, 
 swathed in mellow gold, inlaid with rich colours, and 
 always deeply and darkly shadowed, that the Byzantine 
 architects best embodied this Oriental conception of 
 colour effect, and the whole of Italy was to some 
 extent warmed by their glow. But it was in Venice, 
 where the influence of the East was always paramount, 
 and where the most splendid of all these mosaic 
 churches glowed and glittered in the midst of the 
 city, that the example had strongest and most definite 
 effect. Here it grafted itself and bore fruit, and in 
 the city which for so many centuries had sucked nour- 
 ishment from Eastern sources there arose in due time 
 a school of painting in which all the great character- 
 istics of Oriental colour are exhibited. 
 
 This school it was which took Reynolds captive. 
 But in yielding to colour of this kind he was not yield- 
 ing to decorative colour. The rich, suffused colour 
 on the canvas of a Tintoret or a Titian is not decorative 
 colour at all. It is emotional colour, colour used to 
 instil a sensation and a feeling, not to define an object. 
 Will the reader compare in his mind the inside of 
 St. Mark's at Venice with the inside of St. Peter's at 
 Rome? Both make much use of colour, but in St. 
 Mark's the colour appears as a pervading deep and 
 rich glow, governed and controlled by light and shade; 
 in St. Peter's it appears as a complicated pattern 
 of variously cut marbles exposed in clear daylight. 
 This last is the decorative use of colour, and excites 
 no feeling at all. The former is the emotional use of 
 it, and both excites and satisfies deep feeling. The 
 same difference is apparent between colour as dealt 
 with by the Venetian painters and colour as dealt with 
 by the Northern nations before Venice's influence had 
 been felt. 
 
 Bearing these facts in mind, the theory and the 
 practice of Reynolds both gain in significance. He 
 came at the moment when the spread of that Eastern 
 ideal of colouring, which had already been carried 
 here and there through Europe, had become possible 
 in England. He has himself drawn attention to this 
 
Introduction 
 
 xiii 
 
 tendency it possessed to overflow and extend into other 
 nations. By them,'' he says — that is, by Tintoret and 
 Veronese especially — " a style merely ornamental has 
 been disseminated throughout all Europe. Rubens 
 carried it into Flanders, Voet to France, and Lucca 
 Giordano to Spain and Naples." To which he might 
 have added, and I myself to England." 
 
 From the point of view of his work and example, 
 Reynolds is to be considered as the instrument of 
 destiny appointed to a great end, while at the same 
 time his own slighting and inadequate criticism of 
 this kind of colour and his humble contrition for 
 having been led astray by it are not, if we remember 
 his date, unintelligible. For, having behind him a 
 national past throughout which form, and the intel- 
 lectual associations suggested by form, ruled para- 
 mount, and in which the only recognised function of 
 colour had been its decorative function, it must seem 
 to be inevitable that, however natural an aptitude he 
 may have possessed for judging the grandeur of form, 
 he could have possessed little for appraising the effects 
 of colour. The truth is that he applies to colour used 
 as the Venetians used it exactly the kind of criticism 
 which he might have applied to it as it was used all 
 through the Gothic epoch. It was inbred in Reynolds 
 that colour must be and could be only a property of 
 form — must and could be, that is to say, only decora- 
 tive. To this formula he returns again and again, and 
 however inapplicable it may seem to the mighty 
 Venetian canvases, we have only to put ourselves in 
 Reynolds's time and place to perceive that the use of 
 it was natural and inevitable. 
 
 But all this represented, after all, only his conscious 
 criticism and reasoning. Form is intellectual, colour 
 emotional, and if intellectually Sir Joshua remained 
 true to the first, emotionally he abandoned himself en- 
 tirely to the last. Venice never conquered his reason, but 
 she conquered his instincts and feelings and affections, 
 and, for all that reason could do, for thirty years, from 
 his return from Italy until his death, he poured forth 
 work which owes all its power and charm to that 
 very glow and suffusion of colour which year by year 
 he denounced to the pupils of the Royal Academy as a 
 
xiv 
 
 Introduction 
 
 delusion and a snare. It seems to me that this con- 
 quest of Sir Joshua Reynolds, in spite of all his pro- 
 tests and in defiance of all his reasoning, is about the 
 most remarkable proof extant of the irresistible influ- 
 ence which emotional colouring can exert. 
 
 Well, then, turning to these Discourses, let us say 
 at once that all the strictures on the great colourists 
 which they contain do not constitute a real valuation 
 of colour at all, but only a valuation of it by one bred 
 in traditions of form. They have, indeed, their own 
 great interest. They enable us to realise, more vividly 
 than anything else I can think of, the limitations and 
 one-sidedness of art in England in the days before 
 Reynolds's own painting achievements had helped to 
 lay the basis of a truer standard in criticism than any 
 he himself possessed or could possess. Here their 
 interest is unique. But as criticism we may pass 
 them by. No one, indeed, has refuted them more ably 
 than Sir Joshua himself. His real and genuine esti» 
 mate of colour is to be found, not in what he said, 
 but in what he did. 
 
 On the other hand, perhaps the very solidity and 
 unity of that great Northern tradition which stretched 
 behind him gave a simplicity and power to his analysis 
 of form which it would scarcely in a later day have 
 possessed. Certainly I do not know where else in 
 English art criticism are to be found such clear and 
 weighty definitions of what grandeur of style consists 
 in as occur throughout these Discourses. The prin- 
 ciple of the selection of essential traits, or those 
 common to the species, together with the elimination 
 of accidental ones, or those peculiar to the individual, 
 which may be said to underlie his whole theory of 
 the grand style, is indeed that principle on which art 
 itself is founded, and the recognition of which has 
 made the difference in all ages between the cultured 
 and ignorant, between the artist who simplifies and 
 the artist who complicates, between Greek and bar- 
 barian. It is little to the point to say that this jwin- 
 ciple is already familiar to us, and that we have no 
 need of further instruction in it, for it is with this 
 as with other truths that matter, which become dimmed 
 and stale in the world, and lose their meaning and 
 
Introduction 
 
 XV 
 
 have to be reaffirmed from time to time by some great 
 teacher with emphasis and power. 
 
 It is in their powerful handUng of first principles 
 in all that regards form that the value of these lectures 
 lies. It is this also which gives them for the present 
 age their character of an antidote. There are times 
 during which the national life, uncertain and fluctuat- 
 ing in convictions and aims, is incapable of inspiring 
 art with any definite impulse whatsoever. These, for 
 art, are melancholy days — days divested of all tradi- 
 tion and agreement — which it occupies rather in ex- 
 perimenting on its own methods and processes than 
 in producing definite constructive work. Such experi- 
 ments, however, are taken very seriously by contem- 
 poraries, and all kinds of ingenious, far-fetched tricks 
 are played in paint or marble with as much zeal as 
 if they formed part of a genuine creative movement. 
 Art criticism, it is needless to say, follows the lead of 
 art, and analyses these fugitive individual experiments 
 as solemnly as if they were an authentic expression 
 of the life of their age. The combined effect of this 
 kind of art and this kind of art criticism on a disin- 
 terested stranger would probably be that, far from con- 
 ceiving of art as a very important and vitally human 
 affair, he would conclude that it was an extremely 
 clever and ingenious kind of juggling, which, how- 
 ever interesting to cliques and coteries, could be no 
 concern of mankind in general. 
 
 There is no doubt that the best way, or only way, 
 of counteracting this tendency to triviality, to which 
 in an experimental age we are liable, is now and then 
 to have recourse to those primitive and fixed principles 
 of art which are the same in all ages, and obedience 
 to which alone constitutes a passport to the regard 
 of all ages. Only, in order that such principles may 
 be made acceptable and attractive, it is essential that 
 they should be treated with that directness and sim- 
 plicity which an intimate consciousness of their truth 
 inspires. They are so treated in these Discourses, and 
 the consequence of their being so treated is that just 
 as a reader wearied by the trivialities of contemporary 
 poetry or the arguments of contemporary theology 
 may find rest and refreshment by turning over a page 
 
wi 
 
 Introduction 
 
 or two of Wordsworth or Thomas k Kempis, so in 
 something- the same way at least, though perhaps in 
 a less degree, he may be brought closer again to the 
 reality he had lost touch of in matters of art by 
 turning from the art criticism of the newspapers to 
 the lectures of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
 Discourses delivered in the Royal Academy, 1769-179 1 
 
 (published separately). 
 Seven Discourses delivered in the Royal Academy (1769- 
 
 76), 1778. Edited by H. Morley (Cassell's National 
 
 Library), 1888. 
 Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Ed. E. Gosse, 1884. 
 Ed. H. Zimmern (Camelot Classics), 1887. 
 Works : Ed. G. Malone, 2 vols., 1797, 1798. 
 Complete Works, 3 vols., 1824. 
 
 Ed. H. W. Beechey, 2 vols., 1835; 1852 (Bohn). (Works 
 include '* A Journey to Flanders and Holland," 
 Annotations on Du Fresnoy's ** Art of Painting," 
 and three letters to the Idler, 1759, on Painting, 
 and the True Idea of Beauty.) 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds and his Works (Gleanings from 
 Diary, unpublished MSS., &c.), by W. Cotton. Ed. 
 J. Barnet, 1856. 
 
Preface to Discourse I. 
 
 TO THE MEMBERS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE ROYAL ACADEMY 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 That you have ordered the publication of this dis- 
 course is not only very flattering to me, as it implies 
 your approbation of the method of study which I 
 have recommended ; but, likewise, a-s this method 
 receives from that act such an additional weight 
 and authority, as demands from the students that 
 deference and respect which can be due only to the 
 united sense of so considerable a body of artists. 
 
 I am, 
 
 With the greatest esteem and respect, 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 Your most humble 
 
 and obedient Servant, 
 
 Joshua Reynolds. 
 
 B 
 
DISCOURSE I 
 
 Delivered at the opening of the Royal Academy, January 2, 
 
 1769. 
 
 The Advantages proceeding from the Institution of a Royal 
 Academy. — Hints offered to the Consideration of the 
 Professors and Visitors ; — That an Implicit Obedience to the 
 Rules of Art be exacted from the Young Students ; — That a 
 Premature Disposition to a Masterly Dexterity be repressed ; 
 — That Diligence be constantly recommended, and (that it 
 may be effectual) directed to its Proper Object. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 An Academy, in which the Polite Arts may be 
 regularly cultivated, is at last opened among- us by 
 Royal munificence. This must appear an event in 
 the highest degree interesting, not only to the 
 artists, but to the whole nation. 
 
 It is indeed difficult to give any other reason, why 
 an empire like that of Britain should so long have 
 wanted an ornament so suitable to its greatness, 
 than that slow progression of things, which natur- 
 ally makes elegance and refinement the last effect 
 of opulence and power. 
 
 An institution like this has often been recom- 
 mended upon considerations merely mercantile ; but 
 an Academy, founded upon such principles, can 
 never effect even its own narrow purposes. If it 
 has an origin no higher, no taste can ever be formed 
 in manufactures ; but if the higher Arts of Design 
 flourish, these inferior ends will be answered of 
 course. 
 
 We are happy in having a Prince, who has con- 
 ceived the design of such an institution^ according 
 
 B 2 
 
4 The First Discourse 
 
 to its true dignity ; and who promotes the Arts, as 
 the head of a great, a learned, a poHte, and a com- 
 mercial nation ; and I can now congratulate you, 
 gentlemen, on the accomplishment of your long 
 and ardent wishes. 
 
 The numberless and ineffectual consultations 
 which I have had with many in this assembly, to 
 form plans and concert schemes for an Academy, 
 afford a sufficient proof of the impossibility of 
 succeeding but by the influence of Majesty. But 
 there have, perhaps, been times, when even the in- 
 fluence of Majesty would have been ineffectual ; and 
 it is pleasing to reflect, that we are thus embodied, 
 when every circumstance seems to concur from 
 which honour and prosperity can probably arise. 
 
 There are, at this time, a greater number of 
 excellent artists than were ever known before at 
 one period in this nation ; there is a general desire 
 among our nobility to be distinguished as lovers and 
 judges of the Arts ; there is a greater superfluity of 
 wealth among the people to reward the professors ; 
 and, above all, we are patronised by a monarch, 
 who, knowing the value of science and of ele- 
 gance, thinks every art worthy of his notice, that 
 tends to soften and humanise the mind. 
 
 After so much has been done by his Majesty, it 
 will be wholly our fault, if our progress is not in 
 some degree correspondent to the wisdom and 
 generosity of the Institution : let us show our grati- 
 tude in our diligence, that, though our merit may 
 not answer his expectations, yet, at least, our in- 
 dustry may deserve his protection. 
 
 But whatever may be our proportion of success, 
 of this we may be sure, that the present Institution 
 will at least contribute to advance our knowledge 
 of the Arts, and bring us nearer to that ideal 
 excellence, which it is the lot of genius always to 
 contemplate and never to attain. 
 
The First Discourse 5 
 
 The principal advantage of an Academy is, that, 
 besides furnishing able men to direct the student, 
 it will be a repository for the great examples of the 
 Art. These are the materials on which genius is 
 to work, and without which the strongest intellect 
 may be fruitlessly or deviously employed. By 
 studying these authentic models, that idea of ex- 
 cellence which is the result of the accumulated 
 experience of past ages, may be at once acquired ; 
 and the tardy and obstructed progress of our pre- 
 decessors may teach us a shorter and easier way. 
 The student receives, at one glance, the principles 
 which many artists have spent their whole lives in 
 ascertaining; and, satisfied with their effect, is 
 spared the painful investigation by which they came 
 to be known and fixed. How many men of great 
 natural abilities have been lost to this nation, for 
 want of these advantages ! They never had an 
 opportunity of seeing those masterly efforts of 
 genius, which at once kindle the whole soul, and 
 force it into sudden and irresistible approbation. 
 
 Raffaelle, it is true, had not the advantage of 
 studying in an Academy ; but all Rome, and the 
 works of Michael Angelo in particular, were to him 
 an academy. On the sight of the Capella Sistina, 
 he immediately from a dry, Gothic, and even in- 
 sipid manner, which attends to the minute acci- 
 dental discriminations of particular and individual 
 objects, assumed that grand style of painting, which 
 improves partial representation by the general and 
 invariable ideas of nature. 
 
 Every seminary of learning may be said to be sur- 
 rounded with an atmosphere of floating knowledge, 
 where every mind may imbibe somewhat congenial 
 to its own original conceptions. Knowledge, thus 
 obtained, has always something more popular and 
 useful than that which is forced upon the mind by 
 private precepts, or solitary meditation. Besides, 
 
6 The First Discourse 
 
 it is generally found, that a youth more easily 
 receives instruction from the companions of his 
 studies, whose minds are nearly on a level with his 
 own, than from those who are much his superiors ; 
 and it is from his equals only that he catches the 
 fire of emulation. 
 
 One advantage, I will venture to affirm, we shall 
 have in our Academy, which no other nation can 
 boast. We shall have nothing to unlearn. To this 
 praise the present race of artists have a just claim. 
 As far as they have yet proceeded, they are right. 
 With us the exertions of genius will henceforward 
 be directed to their proper objects. It will not be 
 as it has been in other schools, where he that 
 travelled fastest only wandered farthest from the 
 right way. 
 
 Impressed, as I am, therefore, with such a 
 favourable opinion of my associates in this under- 
 taking, it would ill become me to dictate to any of 
 them. But as these institutions have so often 
 failed in other nations ; and as it is natural to think 
 with regret, how much might have been done, I 
 must take leave to offer a few hints, by which those 
 errors may be rectified, and those defects supplied. 
 These the professors and visitors may reject or 
 adopt as they shall think proper. 
 
 I would chiefly recommend, that an implicit 
 obedience to the Rules of Art, as established by the 
 practice of the great masters, should be exacted 
 from the young students. That those models, which 
 have passed through the approbation of ages, 
 should be considered by them as perfect and in- 
 fallible guides ; as subjects for their imitation, not 
 their criticism. 
 
 I am confident, that this is the only efficacious 
 method of making a progress in the Arts ; and that 
 he who sets out with doubting, will find life finished 
 before he becomes master of the rudiments. For it 
 
The First Discourse 7 
 
 may be laid down as a maxim, that he who begins 
 by presuming^ on his own sense, has ended his 
 studies as soon as he has commenced them. Every 
 opportunity, therefore, should be taken to discoun- 
 tenance that false and vulgar opinion, that rules are 
 the fetters of genius ; they are fetters only to men 
 of no genius ; as that armour, which upon the 
 strong is an ornament and a defence, upon the 
 weak and mis-shapen becomes a load, and cripples 
 the body which it was made to protect. 
 
 How much liberty may be taken to break through 
 those rules, and, as the poet expresses it. 
 
 To snatch a grace beyond the reach of art, 
 
 may be a subsequent consideration, when the pupils 
 become masters themselves. It is then, when their 
 genius has received its utmost improvement, that 
 rules may possibly be dispensed with. But let us 
 not destroy the scalfold, until we have raised the 
 building. 
 
 The directors ought more particularly to watch 
 over the genius of those students, who, being more 
 advanced, are arrived at that critical period of 
 study, on the nice management of which their future 
 turn of taste depends. At that age it is natural for 
 them to be more captivated with what is brilliant, 
 than with what is solid, and to prefer splendid 
 negligence to painful and humiliating exactness. 
 
 A facility in composing, — a lively, and what is 
 called a masterly, handling of the chalk or pencil, 
 are, it must be confessed, captivating qualities to 
 young minds, and become of course the objects of 
 their ambition. They endeavour to imitate these 
 dazzling excellences, which they will find no great 
 labour in attaining. After much time spent in these 
 frivolous pursuits, the difficulty will be to retreat; 
 but it will be then too late; and there is scarce an 
 instance of return to scrupulous labour, after the 
 
8 The First Discourse 
 
 mind has been debauched and deceived by this 
 fallacious mastery. 
 
 By this useless industry they are excluded from 
 all power of advancing- in real excellence. Whilst 
 boys, they are arrived at their utmost perfection; 
 they have taken the shadow for the substance ; and 
 make the mechanical felicity the chief excellence of 
 the art, which is only an ornament, and of the merit 
 of which few but painters themselves are judges. 
 
 This seems to me to be one of the most dangerous 
 sources of corruption ; and I speak of it from ex- 
 perience, not as an error which may possibly 
 happen, but which has actually infected all foreign 
 academies. The directors were probably pleased 
 with this premature dexterity in their pupils, and 
 praised their dispatch at the expense of their cor- 
 rectness. 
 
 But young men have not only this frivolous 
 ambition of being thought masters of execution 
 inciting them on one hand, but also their natural 
 sloth tempting them on the other. They are terri- 
 fied at the prospect before them, of the toil required 
 to attain exactness. The impetuosity of youth is 
 disgusted at the slow approaches of a regular sieg^e, 
 and desires, from mere impatience of labour, to 
 take the citadel by storm. They wish to find some 
 shorter path to excellence, and hope to obtain the 
 reward of eminence by other means than those, 
 which the indispensable rules of art have prescribed. 
 They must therefore be told again and again, that 
 labour is the only price of solid fame, and that what- 
 ever their force of genius may be, there is no easy 
 method of becoming- a good painter. 
 
 When we read the lives of the most eminent 
 painters, every page informs us, that no part of 
 their time was spent in dissipation. Even an in- 
 crease of fame served only to augment their in- 
 dustry. To be convinced with what persevering- 
 
The First Discourse 9 
 
 assiduity they pursued their studies, we need only 
 reflect on their method of proceeding in their most 
 celebrated works. When they conceived a sub- 
 ject, they first made a variety of sketches ; then a 
 finished drawing of the whole ; after that a more 
 correct drawing of every separate part, — heads, 
 hands, feet, and pieces of drapery ; they then 
 painted the picture, and after all re-touched it from 
 the life. The pictures, thus wrought with such 
 pains, now appear like the effect of enchantment, 
 and as if some mighty genius had struck them off 
 at a blow. 
 
 But, whilst diligence is thus recommended to the 
 students, the visitors will take care that their dili- 
 gence be effectual; that it be well directed, and 
 employed on the proper object. A student is not 
 always advancing because he is employed ; he must 
 apply his strength to that part of the art where the 
 real difTiculties lie; to that part which distinguishes 
 it as a liberal art ; and not by mistaken industry lose 
 his time in that which is merely ornamental. The 
 students, instead of vying with eaoh other which 
 shall have the readiest hand, should be taught to 
 contend who shall have the purest and most correct 
 outline ; instead of striving which shall produce 
 the brightest tint, or curiously trifling, shall give 
 the gloss of stuffs, so as to appear real, let their 
 ambition be directed to contend, which shall dispose 
 his drapery in the most graceful folds, which shall 
 give the most grace and dignity to the human 
 figure. 
 
 I must beg leave to submit one thing more to the 
 consideration of the visitors, which appears to me 
 a matter of very great consequence, and the omis- 
 sion of which I think a principal defect in the method 
 of education pursued in all the academies I have 
 ever visited. The error I mean is, that the students 
 never draw exactly from the living models which 
 
10 The First Discourse 
 
 they have before them. It is not indeed their in- 
 tention ; nor are they directed to do it. Their 
 drawing's resemble the model only in the attitude. 
 They chang-e the form according- to their vague and 
 uncertain ideas of beauty, and make a drawing- 
 rather of what they think the figure ought to be, 
 than of what it appears. I have thought this the 
 obstacle that has stopped the progress of many 
 young men of real genius ; and I very much doubt, 
 whether a habit of drawing- correctly what we see, 
 will not give a proportionable power of drawing 
 correctly what we imagine. He who endeavours to 
 copy nicely the figure before him, not only acquires 
 a habit of exactness and precision, but is continually 
 advancing in his knowledge of the human figure ; 
 and though he seems to superficial observers to 
 make a slower progress, he will be found at last 
 capable of adding (without running into capricious 
 wildness) that grace and beauty, which is necessary 
 to be given to his more finished works, and which 
 cannot be got by the moderns, as it was not 
 acquired by the ancients, but by an attentive and 
 well compared study of the human form. 
 
 What I think ought to enforce this method is, 
 that it has been the practice (as may be seen by 
 their drawings) of the great Masters in the Art. I 
 will mention a drawing of Raffaelle, The Dispute of 
 the Sacramenty the print of which, by Count Cailus, 
 is in every hand. It appears, that he made his 
 sketch from one model ; and the habit he had of 
 drawing exactly from the form before him appears 
 by his making all the figures with the same cap, such 
 as his model then happened to wear; so servile a 
 copyist was this great man, even at a time when 
 he was allowed to be at his highest pitch of ex- 
 cellence. 
 
 I have seen also academy figures by Annibale 
 Caracci, though he was often sufificiently licentious 
 
The First Discourse 
 
 in his finished works, drawn with all the peculiari- 
 ties of an individual model. 
 
 This scrupulous exactness is so contrary to the 
 practice of the academies, that it is not without 
 gfreat deference, that I beg leave to recommend it 
 to the consideration of the visitors ; and submit to 
 them, whether the neglect of this method is not one 
 of the reasons why students so often disappoint 
 expectation, and, being more than boys at sixteen, 
 become less than men at thirty. 
 
 In short, the method I recommend can only be 
 detrimental where there are but few living forms to 
 copy; for then students, by always drawing from 
 one alone, will by habit be taught to overlook 
 defects, and mistake deformity for beauty. But of 
 this there is no danger ; since the Council has deter- 
 mined to supply the Academy with a variety of sub- 
 jects ; and indeed those laws which they have 
 drawn up, and which the Secretary will presently 
 read for your confirmation, have in some measure 
 precluded me from saying more upon this occasion. 
 Instead, therefore, of offering my advice, permit 
 me to indulge my wishes, and express my hope, that 
 this institution may answer the expectation of its 
 Royal founder ; that the present age may vie in Arts 
 with that of Leo the Tenth ; and that the dignity of 
 the dying Art (to make use of an expression of 
 Pliny) may be revived under the reign of George the 
 Third. 
 
12 The Second Discourse 
 
 DISCOURSE II 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December ii, 1769. 
 
 The Course and Order of Study. — The Different Stages of Art. 
 — Much Copying discountenanced. — The Artist at all Times 
 and in all Places should be employed in laying up Materials 
 for the Exercise of his Art. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 I CONGRATULATE you OH the honour which you have 
 just received. I have the highest opinion of your 
 merits, and could wish to show my sense of them 
 in something which possibly may be more useful to 
 you than barren praise. I could wish to lead you 
 into such a course of study as may render your 
 future progress answerable to your past improve- 
 ment; and, whilst I applaud you for what has been 
 done, remind you how much yet remains to attain 
 perfection. 
 
 I flatter myself, that from the long experience I 
 have had, and the unceasing assiduity with which I 
 have pursued those studies, in which, like you, I 
 have been engaged, I shall be acquitted of vanity in 
 offering some hints to your consideration. They 
 are indeed in a great degree founded upon my 
 own mistakes in the same pursuit. But the history 
 of errors, properly managed, often shortens the 
 road to truth. And although no method of study 
 that I can offer, will of itself conduct to excel- 
 lence, yet it may preserve industry from being 
 misapplied. 
 
 In speaking to you of the Theory of the Art, I 
 shall only consider it as it has a relation to the 
 method of your studies. 
 
 Dividing the study of painting into three distinct 
 periods, I shall address you as having passed 
 
The Second Discourse 13 
 
 through the first of them, which is confined to the 
 rudiments ; including a facihty of drawing any 
 object that presents itself, a tolerable readiness in 
 the management of colours, and an acquaintance 
 with the most simple and obvious rules of com- 
 position. 
 
 This first degree of proficiency is, in painting, 
 what grammar is in literature, a general prepara- 
 tion for whatever species of the art the student may 
 afterwards choose for his more particular applica- 
 tion. The power of drawing, modelling, and using 
 colours, is very properly called the language of the 
 art ; and in this language, the honours you have just 
 received prove you to have made no inconsiderable 
 progress. 
 
 When the artist is once enabled to express himself 
 with some degree of correctness, he must then en- 
 deavour to collect subjects for expression ; to amass 
 a stock of ideas, to be combined and varied as 
 occasion may require. He is now in the second 
 period of study, in which his business is to learn all 
 that has been known and done before his own time. 
 Having hitherto received instructions from a par- 
 ticular master, he is now to consider the Art itself 
 as his master. He must extend his capacity to 
 more sublime and general instructions. Those per- 
 fections which lie scattered among various masters 
 are now united in one general idea, which is hence- 
 forth to regulate his taste, and enlarge his imagina- 
 tion. With a variety of models thus before him, 
 he will avoid that narrowness and poverty of 
 conception which attends a bigoted admiration of 
 a single master, and will cease to follow any 
 favourite where he ceases to excel. This period is, 
 however, still a time of subjection and discipline. 
 Though the student will not resign himself blindly 
 to any single authority, when he may have the 
 advantage of consulting many, he must still be 
 
14 The Second Discourse 
 
 afraid of trusting- his own judgment, and of deviat- 
 ing into any track where he cannot find the footsteps 
 of some former master. 
 
 The third and last period emancipates the student 
 from subjection to any authority, but what he shall 
 himself judge to be supported by reason. Con- 
 fiding now in his own judgment, he will consider 
 and separate those different principles to which 
 different modes of beauty owe their original. In 
 the former period he sought only to know and com- 
 bine excellence, wherever it was to be found, into 
 one idea of perfection : in this, he learns, what 
 requires the most attentive survey and the most 
 subtle disquisition, to discriminate perfections that 
 are incompatible with each other. 
 
 He is from this time to regard himself as holding 
 the same rank with those masters whom he before 
 obeyed as teachers ; and as exercising a sort of 
 sovereignty over those rules which have hitherto 
 restrained him. Comparing now no longer the per- 
 formances of Art with each other, but examining 
 the Art itself by the standard of nature, he corrects 
 what is erroneous, suppHes what is scanty, and adds 
 by his own observation what the industry of his 
 predecessors may have yet left wanting to per- 
 fection. Having well established his judgment, 
 and stored his memory, he may now without fear 
 try the power of his imagination. The mind that 
 has been thus disciplined, may be indulged in the 
 warmest enthusiasm, and venture to play on the 
 borders of the wildest extravagance. The habitual 
 dignity which long converse with the greatest 
 minds has imparted to him will display itself in all 
 his attempts ; and he w^ill stand among^ his instruc- 
 tors, not as an imitator, but a rival. 
 
 These are the different stages of the Art. But as I 
 now address myself particularly to those students 
 who have been this day rewarded for their happy 
 
The Second Discourse 15 
 
 passage through the first period, I can with no pro- 
 priety suppose they want any help in the initiatory 
 studies. My present design is to direct your view 
 to distant excellence, and to show you the readiest 
 path that leads to it. Of this I shall speak with 
 such latitude, as may leave the province of the pro- 
 fessor uninvaded ; and shall not anticipate those 
 precepts, which it is his business to give, and your 
 duty to understand. 
 
 It is indisputably evident that a great part of 
 every man's life must be employed in collecting 
 materials for the exercise of genius. Invention, 
 strictly speaking, is little more than a new combina- 
 tion of those images which have been previously 
 gathered and deposited in the memory : nothing can 
 come of nothing : he who has laid up no materials, 
 can produce no combinations. 
 
 A student unacquainted with the attempts of 
 former adventurers is always apt to overrate his 
 own abilities ; to mistake the most trifling excur- 
 sions for discoveries of moment, and every coast 
 new to him, for a new-found country. If by chance 
 he passes beyond his usual limits, he congratulates 
 his own arrival at those regions which they who have 
 steered a better course have long left behind them. 
 
 The productions of such minds are seldom dis- 
 tinguished by an air of originality : they are anti- 
 cipated in their happiest efforts ; and if they are 
 found to differ in anything from their predecessors, 
 it is only in irregular sallies, and trifling conceits. 
 The more extensive therefore your acquaintance is 
 with the works of those who have excelled, the more 
 extensive will be your powers of invention ; and 
 what may appear still more like a paradox, the 
 more original will be your conceptions. But the 
 difficulty on this occasion is to determine what 
 ought to be proposed as models of excellence, and 
 who ought to be considered as the properest guides. 
 
1 6 The Second Discourse 
 
 To a young man just arrived in Italy, many of the 
 present painters of tiiat country are ready enough to 
 obtrude their precepts, and to offer their own per- 
 formances as examples of that perfection which they 
 affect to recommend. The modern, however, who 
 recommends himself as a standard, may justly be 
 suspected as ignorant of the true end, and un- 
 acquainted with the proper object, of the art which 
 he professes. To follow such a guide, will not only 
 retard the student, but mislead him. 
 
 On whom then can he rely, or who shall show him 
 the path that leads to excellence? The answer is 
 obvious : those great masters who have travelled the 
 same road with success are the most likely to con- 
 duct others. The works of those who have stood 
 the test of ages, have a claim to that respect and 
 veneration to which no modern can pretend. The 
 duration and stability of their fame is sufficient to 
 evince that it has not been suspended upon the 
 slender thread of fashion and caprice, but bound to 
 the human heart by every tie of sympathetic appro- 
 bation. 
 
 There is no danger of studying too much the 
 works of those great men; but how they may 
 be studied to advantage is an inquiry of great 
 importance. 
 
 Some who have never raised their minds to the 
 consideration of the real dignity of the Art, and who 
 rate the works of an artist in proportion as they excel 
 or are defective in the mechanical parts, look on 
 theory as something that may enable them to talk 
 but not to paint better; and confining themselves 
 entirely to mechanical practice, very assiduously toil 
 on in the drudgery of copying ; and think they make 
 a rapid progress while they faithfully exhibit the 
 minutest part of a favourite picture. This appears 
 to me a very tedious, and I think a very erroneous 
 method of proceeding. Of every large composition. 
 
The Second Discourse 17 
 
 even of those which are most admired, a great part 
 may be truly said to be commonplace. This, 
 though it takes up much time in copying, conduces 
 little to improvement. I consider general copying 
 as a delusive kind of industry ; the student satisfies 
 himself with the appearance of doing something ; he 
 falls into the dangerous habit of imitating without 
 selecting, and of labouring without any determinate 
 object ; as it requires no effort of the mind, he sleeps 
 over his work ; and those powers of invention and 
 composition which ought particularly to be called 
 out, and put in action, lie torpid, and lose their 
 energy for want of exercise. 
 
 How incapable those are of producing anything 
 of their own, who have spent much of their time in 
 making finished copies, is well known to all who are 
 conversant with our art. 
 
 To suppose that the complication of powers, and 
 variety of ideas necessary to that mind which aspires 
 to the first honours in the art of painting, can be 
 obtained by the frigid contemplation of a few single 
 models, is no less absurd, than it would be in him 
 who wishes to be a poet, to imagine that by trans- 
 lating a tragedy he can acquire to himself sufficient 
 knowledge of the appearances of nature, the opera- 
 tions of the passions, and the incidents of life. 
 
 The great use in copying, if it be at all useful, 
 should seem to be in learning to colour ; yet even 
 colouring will never be perfectly attained by servilely 
 copying the model before you. An eye critically 
 nice can only be formed by observing well-coloured 
 pictures with attention ; and by close inspection, and 
 minute examination, you will discover, at last, the 
 manner of handling, the artifices of contrast, glaz- 
 ing, and other expedients, by which good colourists 
 have raised the value of their tints, and by which 
 nature has been so happily imitated. 
 
 I must inform you, however, that old pictures 
 
1 8 The Second Discourse 
 
 deservedly celebrated for their colouring-, are often 
 so changed by dirt and varnish, that we ought not to 
 wonder if they do not appear equal to their reputa- 
 tion in the eyes of inexperienced painters, or young 
 students. An artist whose judgment is matured by 
 long observation, considers rather what the picture 
 once was, than what it is at present. He has by 
 habit acquired a power of seeing the brilliancy of 
 tints through the cloud by which it is obscured. An 
 exact imitation, therefore, of those pictures, is likely 
 to fill the student's mind with false opinions ; and to 
 send him back a colourist of his own formation, with 
 ideas equally remote from nature and from art, from 
 the genuine practice of the masters, and the real 
 appearances of things. 
 
 Following these rules, and using these precau- 
 tions, when you have clearly and distinctly learned 
 in what good colouring consists, you cannot do 
 better than have recourse to nature herself, who is 
 always at hand, and in comparison of whose true 
 splendour the best coloured pictures are but faint 
 and feeble. 
 
 However, as the practice of copying is not entirely 
 to be excluded, since the mechanical practice of 
 painting is learned in some measure by it, let those 
 choice parts only be selected which have recom- 
 mended the work to notice. If its excellence con- 
 sists in its general effect, it would be proper to make 
 slight sketches of the machinery and general man- 
 agement of the picture. Those sketches should be 
 kept always by you for the regulation of your style. 
 Instead of copying the touches of those great 
 masters, copy only their conceptions. Instead of 
 treading in their footsteps, endeavour only to keep 
 the same road. Labour to invent on their general 
 principles and way of thinking. Possess yourself 
 with their spirit. Consider with yourself how a 
 Michael Angelo or a Raffaelle would have treated 
 
The Second Discourse 19 
 
 this subject : and work yourself into a belief that 
 your picture is to be seen and criticised by them 
 when completed. Even an attempt of this kind will 
 rouse your powers. 
 
 But as mere enthusiasm will carry you but a little 
 way, let me recommend a practice that may be 
 equivalent to and will perhaps more efficaciously 
 contribute to your advancement, than even the 
 verbal corrections of those masters themselves, 
 could they be obtained. What I would propose is, 
 that you should enter into a kind of competition, by 
 painting- a similar subject, and making- a com- 
 panion to any picture that you consider as a 
 model. After you have finished your work, place 
 it near the model, and compare them care- 
 fully together. You will then not only see, but 
 feel your own deficiencies more sensibly than by 
 precepts, or any other means of instruction. The 
 true principles of painting will mingle with your 
 thoughts. Ideas thus fixed by sensible objects will 
 be certain and definitive; and sinking deep into the 
 mind, will not only be more just, but more lasting 
 than those presented to you by precepts only ; which 
 will always be fleeting, variable, and undetermined. 
 
 This method of comparing- your own efforts with 
 those of some great master is indeed a severe and 
 mortifying task, to which none will submit, but such 
 as have great views, with fortitude sufficient to fore- 
 go the g-ratifications of present vanity for future 
 honour. When the student has succeeded in some 
 measure to his own satisfaction, and has felicitated 
 himself on his success, to go voluntarily to a tribunal 
 where he knows his vanity must be humbled, and all 
 self-approbation must vanish, requires not only 
 great resolution, but great humility. To him, how- 
 ever, who has the ambition to be a real master, the 
 solid satisfaction which proceeds from a conscious- 
 ness of his advancement (of which seeing- his own 
 
 c 2 
 
20 The Second Discourse 
 
 faults is the first step), will very abundantly com- 
 pensate for the mortification of present disappoint- 
 ment. There is, besides, this alleviating circum- 
 stance. Every discovery he makes, every acquisi- 
 tion of knowledge he attains, seems to proceed from 
 his own sagacity ; and thus he acquires a confidence 
 in himself sufficient to keep up the resolution of per- 
 severance. 
 
 We all must have experienced how lazily, and 
 consequently how ineffectually, instruction is re- 
 ceived when forced upon the mind by others. Few 
 have been taught to any purpose, who have not 
 been their own teachers. We prefer those instruc- 
 tions which we have given ourselves, from our 
 affection to the instructor; and they are more 
 effectual, from being received into the mind at the 
 very time when it is most open and eager to receive 
 them. 
 
 With respect to the pictures that you are to 
 choose for your models, I could wish that you 
 would take the world ^s opinion rather than your 
 own. In other words, I would have you choose 
 those of established reputation, rather than follow 
 your own fancy. If you should not admire them at 
 first, you will, by endeavouring to imitate them, find 
 that the world has not been mistaken. 
 
 It is not an easy task to point out those various 
 excellences for your imitation, which lie distributed 
 amongst the various schools. An endeavour to do 
 this may perhaps be the subject of some future dis- 
 course. I will, therefore, at present only recom- 
 mend a model for style in painting, which is a branch 
 of the art more immediately necessary to the young 
 student. Style in painting is the same as in writing, 
 a power over materials, whether words or colours, by 
 which conceptions or sentiments are conveyed. And 
 in this Lodovico Caracci (I mean in his best works) 
 appears to me to approach the nearest to perfection. 
 
The Second Discourse 
 
 21 
 
 His unaffected breadth of light and shadow, the 
 simplicity of colouring, which, holding its proper 
 rank, does not draw aside the least part of the 
 attention from the subject, and the solemn effect of 
 that twilight which seems diffused over his pictures, 
 appear to me to correspond with grave and dignified 
 subjects, better than the more artificial brilliancy ot 
 sunshine which enlightens the pictures of Titian : 
 though Tintoret thought that Titian's colouring was 
 the model of perfection, and would correspond even 
 with the sublime of Michael Angelo ; and that if 
 Angelo had coloured like Titian, or Titian designed 
 like Angelo, the world w^ould once have had a per- 
 fect painter. 
 
 It is our misfortune, however, that those works of 
 Caracci which I would recommend to the student, 
 are not often found out of Bologna. The St. 
 Francis in the midst of his Friars, The Transfigura- 
 tion^ The Birth of St. John the Baptist, The Calling 
 of St. Matthew, the St. Jerome, the Fresco Paint- 
 ings in the Zampieri Palace, are all worthy the atten- 
 tion of the student. And I think those who travel 
 would do well to allot a much greater portion of their 
 time to that city, than it has been hitherto the 
 custom to bestow. 
 
 In this art, as in others, there are many teachers 
 who profess to show the nearest way to excellence ; 
 and many expedients have been invented by which 
 the toil of study might be saved. But let no man 
 be seduced to idleness by specious promises. Excel- 
 lence is never granted to man, but as the reward of 
 labour. It argues indeed no small strength of mind 
 to persevere in habits of industry, without the plea- 
 sure of perceiving those advances ; which, like the 
 hand of a clock, whilst they make hourly approaches 
 to their point, yet proceed so slowly as to escape 
 observation. A facility of drawing, like that of 
 playing upon a musical instrument, cannot be 
 
22 The Second Discourse 
 
 acquired but by an infinite number of acts. I need 
 not, therefore, enforce by many words the necessity 
 of continual appUcation ; nor tell you that the port- 
 crayon ought to be for ever in your hands. Various 
 methods will occur to you by which this power may 
 be acquired. I would particularly recommend, that 
 after your return from the Academy (where I suppose 
 your attendance to be constant), you would en- 
 deavour to draw the figure by memory. I will even 
 venture to add, that by perseverance in this custom, 
 you will become able to draw the human figure 
 tolerably correct, with as little effort of the mind as 
 is required to trace with a pen the letters of the 
 alphabet. 
 
 That this facility is not unattainable, some mem- 
 bers in this Academy give a sufficient proof. And 
 be assured, that if this power is not acquired whilst 
 you are young, there will be no time for it after- 
 wards : at least the attempt will be attended with as 
 much difficulty as those experience, who learn to 
 read or write after they have arrived at the age of 
 maturity. 
 
 But while I mention the port-crayon as the 
 student's constant companion, he must still remem- 
 ber, that the pencil is the instrument by which he 
 must hope to obtain eminence. What, therefore, I 
 wish to impress upon you is, that whenever an 
 opportunity offers, you paint your studies instead of 
 drawing them. This will give you such a facility in 
 using colours, that in time they will arrange them- 
 selves under the pencil, even without the attention 
 of the hand that conducts it. If one act excluded 
 the other, this advice could not with any propriety 
 be given. But if painting comprises both drawing 
 and colouring, and if by a short struggle of resolute 
 industry, the same expedition is attainable in paint- 
 ing as in drawing on paper, I cannot see what objec- 
 tion can justly be made to the practice ; or why that 
 
The Second Discourse 23 
 
 should be done by parts, which may be done all 
 tog-ether. 
 
 If we turn our eyes to the several Schools of 
 Painting-, and consider their respective excellences, 
 we shall find that those who excel most in colouring, 
 pursued this method. The Venetian and Flemish 
 schools, which owe much of their fame to colouring, 
 have enriched the cabinets of the collectors of draw- 
 ings with very few examples. Those of Titian, 
 Paul Veronese, Tintoret, and the Bassans, are in 
 general slight and undetermined ; their sketches 
 on paper are as rude as their pictures are excellent in 
 regard to harmony of colouring. Correggio and 
 Baroccio have left few, if any, finished drawings 
 behind them. And in the Flemish school, Rubens 
 and Vandyck made their designs for the most part 
 either in colours, or in chiaroscuro. It is as com- 
 mon to find studies of the Venetian and Flemish 
 painters on canvas, as of the schools of Rome and 
 Florence on paper. Not but that many finished 
 drawings are sold under the names of those masters. 
 Those, however, are undoubtedly the productions 
 either of engravers or of their scholars, who copied 
 their works. 
 
 These instructions I have ventured to offer from 
 my own experience ; but as they deviate widely from 
 received opinions, I offer them with difliidence; and 
 when better are suggested, shall retract them with- 
 out regret. 
 
 There is one precept, however, in which I shall 
 only be opposed by the vain, the ignorant, and the 
 idle. I am not afraid that I shall repeat it too 
 often. You must have no dependence on your own 
 g-enius. If you have great talents, industry will 
 improve them; if you have but moderate abilities, 
 industry will supply their deficiency. Nothing is 
 denied to well-directed labour : nothing is to be ob- 
 tained without it. Not to enter into metaphysical dis- 
 
24 The Second Discourse 
 
 cussions on the nature or essence of genius, I will 
 venture to assert, that assiduity unabated by diffi- 
 culty, and a disposition eagerly directed to the object 
 of its pursuit, will produce elfects similar to those 
 which some call the result of natural powers. 
 
 Though a man cannot at all times, and in all 
 places, paint or draw, yet the mind can prepare itself 
 by laying in proper materials, at all times, and in all 
 places. Both Livy and Plutarch, in describing 
 Philopoemen, one of the ablest generals of antiquity, 
 have given us a striking picture of a mind always 
 intent on its profession, and by assiduity obtaining 
 those excellences which some all their lives vainly 
 expect from nature. I shall quote the passage in 
 Livy at length, as it runs parallel with the practice 
 I would recommend to the painter, sculptor, and 
 architect : 
 
 Philopoemen was a man eminent for his sagacity 
 and experience in choosing ground, and in leading 
 armies ; to which he formed his mind by perpetual 
 meditation, in times of peace as well as war. When, 
 in any occasional journey, he came to a strait diffi- 
 cult passage, if he was alone he considered with 
 himself, and if he was in company he asked his 
 friends, what it would be best to do if in this place 
 they had found an enemy, either in the front, or in 
 the rear, on the one side, or on the other. * It 
 might happen,' says he, * that the enemy to be 
 opposed might come on drawn up in regular 
 lines, or in a tumultuous body, formed only by 
 the nature of the place.' He then considered 
 a little what ground he should take; what 
 number of soldiers he should use, and what 
 arms he should give them ; where he should lodge 
 his carriages, his baggage, and the defenceless fol- 
 lowers of his camp ; how many guards, and of what 
 kind, he should send to defend them; and whether 
 it would be better to press forward along the pass, 
 
The Second Discourse 25 
 
 or recover by retreat his former station : he would 
 consider likewise where his camp could most com- 
 modiously be formed ; how much ground he should 
 inclose within his trenches : where he should have 
 the convenience of Vv^ater, and where he might find 
 plenty of wood and forage ; and when he should 
 break up his camp on the following day, through 
 what road he could most safely pass, and in what 
 form he should dispose his troops. With such 
 thoughts and disquisitions he had from his early 
 years so exercised his mind, that on these occasions 
 nothing could happen which he had not been already 
 accustomed to consider." 
 
 ly cannot help imagining that I see a promising 
 young painter, equally vigilant, whether at home, 
 or abroad, in the streets, or in the fields. Every 
 object that presents itself is to him a lesson. He 
 regards all nature with a view to his profession ; and 
 combines her beauties, or corrects her defects. He 
 examines the countenance of men under the in- 
 fluence of passion ; and often catches the most pleas- 
 ing hints from subjects of turbulence or deformity. 
 Even bad pictures themselves supply him with use- 
 ful documents; and, as Lionardo da Vinci has 
 observed, he improves upon the fanciful images that 
 are sometimes seen in the fire, or are accidentally 
 sketched upon a discoloured wall. 
 
 The artist who has his mind thus filled with ideas, 
 and his hand made expert by practice, works with 
 ease and readiness ; whilst he who would have you 
 believe that he is waiting for the inspirations of 
 genius, is in reality at a loss how to begin ; and is at 
 last delivered of his monsters, with difficulty and 
 pain. 
 
 The well-grounded painter, on the contrary, has 
 only maturelv to consider his subject, and all the 
 mechanical parts of his art follow without his exer- 
 tion. Conscious of the diflficulty of obtaining what 
 
26 The Third Discourse 
 
 he possesses, he makes no pretensions to secrets, 
 except those of closer application. Without con- 
 ceiving the smallest jealousy against others, he is 
 contented that all shall be as great as himself, who 
 have undergone the same fatigue ; and as his pre- 
 eminence depends not upon a trick, he is free from 
 the painful suspicions of a juggler, who lives in 
 perpetual fear lest his trick should be discovered. 
 
 DISCOURSE III 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December 14, 1770. 
 
 The Great Leading Principles of the Grand Style. — Of Beauty. 
 — The Genuine Habits of Nature to be distinguished from 
 those of Fashion. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 It is not easy to speak with propriety to so many 
 students of different ages and different degrees of 
 advancement. The mind requires nourishment 
 adapted to its growth ; and what may have promoted 
 our earlier efforts, might retard us in our nearer 
 approaches to perfection. 
 
 The first endeavours of a young painter, as I 
 have remarked in a former discourse, must be 
 employed in the attainment of mechanical dexterity, 
 and confined to the mere imitation of the object 
 before him. Those who have advanced beyond the 
 rudiments may, perhaps, find advantage in reflect- 
 ing on the advice which I have likewise given them, 
 when I recommended the diligent study of the works 
 of our great predecessors ; but I at the same time 
 endeavoured to guard them against an implicit sub- 
 mission to the authority of any one master however 
 excellent : or by a strict imitation of his manner. 
 
The Third Discourse 27 
 
 precluding- themselves from the abundance and 
 variety of nature. I will now add that Nature her- 
 self is not to be too closely copied. There are 
 excellences in the art of painting- beyond what is 
 commonly called the imitation of nature : and these 
 excellences I wish to point out. The students 
 who, having- passed through the initiatory exercises, 
 are more advanced in the art, and who, sure of their 
 hand, have leisure to exert their understanding-, 
 must now be told, that a mere copier of nature can 
 never produce anything- great ; can never raise and 
 enlarge the conceptions, or warm the heart of the 
 spectator. 
 
 The wish of the genuine painter must be more 
 extensive : instead of endeavouring to amuse man- 
 kind with the minute neatness of his imitations, he 
 must endeavour to improve them by the grandeur 
 of his ideas ; instead of seeking praise, by deceiv- 
 ing the superficial sense of the spectator, he must 
 strive for fame, by captivating the imagination. 
 
 The principle now laid down, that the perfection 
 of this art does not consist in mere imitation, is far 
 from being new or singular. It is, indeed, sup- 
 ported by the general opinion of the enlightened 
 part of mankind. The poets, orators, and rheto- 
 ricians of antiquity, are continually enforcing this 
 position ; that all the arts receive their perfection 
 from an ideal beauty, superior to what is to be 
 found in individual nature. They are ever referring 
 to the practice of the painters and sculptors of 
 their times, particularly Phidias (the favourite artist 
 of antiquity), to illustrate their assertions. As if 
 they could not sufficiently express their admiration 
 of his genius by what they knew, they have recourse 
 to poetical enthusiasm : they call it inspiration ; a 
 gift from heaven. The artist is supposed to have 
 ascended the celestial regions, to furnish his mind 
 with this perfect idea of beauty. " He,'* says 
 
28 The Third Discourse 
 
 Proclus/ **who takes for his model such forms as 
 nature produces, and confines himself to an exact 
 imitation of them, will never attain to what is per- 
 fectly beautiful. For the works of nature are full 
 of disproportion, and fall very short of the true 
 standard of beauty. So that Phidias, when he 
 formed his Jupiter, did not copy any object ever 
 presented to his sight; but contemplated only that 
 image which he had conceived in his mind from 
 Homer's description.'* And thus Cicero, speaking 
 of the same Phidias: Neither did this artist,'' 
 says he, when he carved the image of Jupiter or 
 Minerva, set before him any one human figure, as a 
 pattern, which he was to copy; but having a more 
 perfect idea of beauty fixed in his mind, this he 
 steadily contemplated, and to the imitation of this 
 all his skill and labour were directed." 
 
 The moderns are not less convinced than the 
 ancients of this superior power existing in the art ; 
 nor less sensible of its effects. Every language has 
 adopted terms expressive of this excellence. The 
 gusto grande of the ItaHans, the beau ideal of the 
 French, and the great style, genius , and taste 
 among the English, are but different appellations of 
 the same thing. It is this intellectual dignity, 
 they say, that ennobles the painter's art; that lays 
 the line between him and the mere mechanic ; and 
 produces those great effects in an instant, which 
 eloquence and poetry, by slow and repeated efforts, 
 are scarcely able to attain. 
 
 Such is the warmth with which both the ancients 
 and moderns speak of this divine principle of the 
 art; but, as I have formerly observed, enthusiastic 
 admiration seldom promotes knowledge. Though 
 a student by such praise may have his attention 
 roused, and a desire excited, of running in this great 
 
 ^ Lib. 2. in Timaeum Platonis, as cited by Junius de Pictura 
 Veterum. R. 
 
The Third Discourse 29 
 
 career ; yet it is possible that what has been said to 
 excite, may only serve to deter him. He examines 
 his own mind, and perceives there nothing of that 
 divine inspiration, with which, he is told, so many 
 others have been favoured. He never travelled 
 to heaven to gather new ideas ; and he finds himself 
 possessed of no other qualifications than what mere 
 common observation and a plain understanding can 
 confer. Thus he becomes gloomy amidst the splen- 
 dour of figurative declamation, and thinks it hope- 
 less to pursue an object which he supposes out of 
 the reach of human industry. 
 
 But on this, as upon many other occasions, we 
 ought to distinguish how much is to be given to 
 enthusiasm, and how much to reason. We ought 
 to allow for, and we ought to commend, that strength 
 of vivid expression, which is necessary to convey, 
 in its full force, the highest sense of the most com- 
 plete effect of art ; taking care at the same time, not 
 to lose in terms of vague admiration, that solidity 
 and truth of principle, upon which alone we can 
 reason, and may be enabled to practise. 
 
 It is not easy to define in what this great style 
 consists; nor to describe, by words, the proper 
 means of acquiring it, if the mind of the student 
 should be at all capable of such an acquisition. 
 Could we teach taste and genius by rules, they would 
 be no longer taste and genius. But though there 
 neither are, nor can be, any precise invariable rules 
 for the exercise, or the acquisition, of these great 
 qualities, yet we may truly say, that they always 
 operate in proportion to our attention in observing 
 the works of nature, to our skill in selecting, and to 
 our care in digesting, methodising, and comparing 
 our observations. There are many beauties in 
 our art, that seem, at first, to lie without the reach 
 of precept, and yet may easily be reduced to practical 
 principles. Experience is all in all ; but it is not 
 
30 The Third Discourse 
 
 every one who profits by experience ; and most 
 people err, not so much from want of capacity to 
 find their object, as from not knowing- what object 
 to pursue. This great ideal perfection and beauty 
 are not to be sought in the heavens, but upon the 
 earth. They are about us, and upon every side of 
 us. But the power of discovering what is deformed 
 in nature, or in other words, what is particular and 
 uncommon, can be acquired only by experience; 
 and the whole beauty and grandeur of the art con- 
 sists, in my opinion, in being able to get above all 
 singular forms, local customs, particularities, and 
 details of every kind. 
 
 All the objects which are exhibited to our view by 
 nature, upon close examination will be found to 
 have their blemishes and defects. The most 
 beautiful forms have something about them like 
 weakess, minuteness, or imperfection. But it is 
 not every eye that perceives these blemishes. It 
 must be an eye long used to the contemplation and 
 comparison of these forms; and which, by a long 
 habit of observing what any set of objects of the 
 same kind have in common, has acquired the power 
 of discerning what each wants in particular. This 
 long laborious comparison should be the first study 
 of the painter who aims at the greatest style. By 
 this means, he acquires a just idea of beautiful 
 forms ; he corrects nature by herself, her imperfect 
 state by her more perfect. His eye being enabled 
 to distinguish the accidental deficiencies, excres- 
 cences, and deformities of things, from their general 
 figures, he makes out an abstract idea of their forms 
 more perfect than any one original; and, what may 
 seem a paradox, he learns to design naturally by 
 drawing his figures unlike to any one object. This 
 idea of the perfect state of nature, which the artist 
 calls the Ideal Beauty, is the great leading principle 
 by which works of genius are conducted. By this 
 
The Third Discourse 31 
 
 Phidias acquired his fame. He wrought upon a 
 sober principle what has so much excited the en- 
 thusiasm of the world ; and by this method you, 
 who have courage to tread the same path, may 
 acquire equal reputation. 
 
 This is the idea which has acquired, and which 
 seems to have a right to, the epithet of divine ; as it 
 may be said to preside, like a supreme judge, over 
 all the productions of nature ; appearing to be pos- 
 sessed of the will and intention of the Creator, as far 
 as they regard the external form of living beings. 
 When a man once possesses this idea in its perfec- 
 tion, there is no danger but that he will be sufficiently 
 warmed by it himself, and be able to warm and 
 ravish everyone else. 
 
 Thus it is from a reiterated experience, and a close 
 comparison of the objects in nature, that an artist 
 becomes possessed of the idea of that central form, 
 if I may so express it, from which every deviation is 
 deformity. But the investigation of this form, I 
 grant, is painful, and I know but of one method of 
 shortening the road ; this is, by a careful study of 
 the works of the ancient sculptors ; who, being in- 
 defatigable in the school of nature, have left models 
 of that perfect form behind them, which an artist 
 would prefer as supremely beautiful, who had spent 
 his whole life in that single contemplation. But if 
 industry carried them thus far, may not you also 
 hope for the same reward from the same labour? 
 We have the same school opened to us, that was 
 opened to them : for nature denies her instructions 
 to none, who desire to become her pupils. 
 
 This laborious investigation, I am aware, must 
 appear superfluous to those who think everything 
 is to be done by felicity, and the powers of native 
 genius. Even the great Bacon treats with ridicule 
 the idea of confining proportion to rules, or of pro- 
 ducing beauty by selection. A man cannot tell 
 
32 The Third Discourse 
 
 (says he) ** whether Apelles or Albert Durer were the 
 more trifler ; whereof the one would make a per- 
 sonag-e by geometrical proportions ; the other, by 
 taking the best parts out of divers faces, to make 
 one excellent. . . The painter*' (he adds) **must 
 do it by a kind of felicity . . . and not by rule. 
 
 It is not safe to question any opinion of so great 
 a writer, and so profound a thinker, as undoubtedly 
 Bacon was. But he studies brevity to excess ; and 
 therefore his meaning is sometimes doubtful. If 
 he means that beauty has nothing to do with rule, 
 he is mistaken. There is a rule, obtained out of 
 general nature, to contradict which is to fall into 
 deformity. Whenever anything is done beyond this 
 rule, it is in virtue of some other rule which is 
 followed along with it, but which does not contradict 
 it. Everything which is wrought with certainty is 
 wrought upon some principle. If it is not, it can- 
 not be repeated. If by felicity is meant anything 
 of chance or hazard, or something born with a man, 
 and not earned, I cannot agree with this great 
 philosopher. Every object which pleases must give 
 us pleasure upon some certain principles ; but as 
 the objects of pleasure are almost infinite, so their 
 principles vary without end, and every man finds 
 them out, not by felicity or successful hazard, but 
 by care and sagacity. 
 
 To the principle I have laid down, that the idea 
 of beauty in each species of beings is an invariable 
 one, it may be objected, that in every particular 
 species there are various central forms, which are 
 separate and distinct from each other, and yet are 
 undeniably beautiful; that in the human figure, for 
 instance, the beauty of Hercules is one, of the 
 Gladiator another, of the Apollo another ; which 
 makes so many different ideas of beauty. 
 
 It is true, indeed, that these figures are each 
 * Essays, p. 252, edit. 1625. 
 
The Third Discourse 33 
 
 perfect in their kind, though of different characters 
 and proportions ; but still none of them is the re- 
 presentation of an individual, but of a class. And 
 as there is one general form, which, as I have said, 
 belongs to the human kind at large, so in each of 
 these classes there is one common idea and central 
 form, which is the abstract of the various indi- 
 vidual forms belonging to that class. Thus, though 
 the forms of childhood and age differ exceedingly, 
 there is a common form in childhood, and a com- 
 mon form in age, which is the more perfect, as it 
 is more remote from all peculiarities. But I must 
 add further, that though the most perfect forms of 
 each of the general divisions of the human figure 
 are ideal, and superior to any individual form of 
 that class ; yet the highest perfection of the human 
 figure is not to be found in any one of them. It 
 is not in the Hercules, nor in the Gladiator, nor in 
 the Apollo ; but in that form which is taken from 
 all, and which partakes equally of the activity of 
 the Gladiator, of the delicacy of the Apollo, and of 
 the muscular strength of the Hercules. For per- 
 fect beauty in any species must combine all the 
 characters which are beautiful in that species. It 
 cannot consist in any one to the exclusion of the 
 rest; no one, therefore, must be predominant, that 
 no one may be deficient. 
 
 The knowledge of these different characters, and 
 the power of separating and distinguishing them, 
 are undoubtedly necessary to the painter, who is to 
 vary his compositions with figures of various forms 
 and proportions, though he is never to lose sight 
 of the general idea of perfection in each kind. 
 
 There is, likewise, a kind of symmetry, or pro- 
 portion, which may properly be said to belong to 
 deformity. A figure lean or corpulent, tall or 
 short, though deviating from beauty, may still have 
 a certain union of the various parts, which may 
 
 D 
 
34 The Third Discourse 
 
 contribute to make them on the whole not un- 
 pleasing. 
 
 When the artist has by dirigent attention ac- 
 quired a clear and distinct idea of beauty and sym- 
 metry ; when he has reduced the variety of nature 
 to the abstract idea ; his next task will be to become 
 acquainted with the genuine habits of nature, as dis- 
 tinguished from those of fashion. For in the same 
 manner, and on the same principles, as he has ac- 
 quired the knowledge of the real forms of nature, 
 distinct from accidental deformity, he must endeav- 
 our to separate simple chaste nature, from those ad- 
 ventitious, those affected and forced airs or actions, 
 with which she is loaded by modern education. 
 
 Perhaps I cannot better explain what I mean, 
 than by reminding you of what was taught us by 
 the Professor of Anatomy, in respect to the natural 
 position and movement of the feet. He observed, 
 that the fashion of turning them outwards was con- 
 trary to the intent of nature, as might be seen from 
 the structure of the bones, and from the weakness 
 that proceeded from that manner of standing. To 
 this we may add the erect position of the head, the 
 projection of the chest, the walking with straight 
 knees, and many such actions, which we know to 
 be merely the result of fashion, and what nature 
 never warranted, as we are sure that we have been 
 taught them when children. 
 
 I have mentioned but a few of those instances, in 
 which vanity or caprice have contrived to distort 
 and disfigure the human form : your own recollec- 
 tion will add to these a thousand more of ill-under- 
 stood methods, which have been practised to dis- 
 guise nature among our dancing-masters, hair- 
 dressers, and tailors, in their various schools of 
 deformity.* 
 
 ^ ** Those," says Quintilian, " who are taken with the out- 
 ward show of things, think that there is more beauty in 
 
The Third Discourse 35 
 
 However the mechanic and ornamental arts may 
 sacrifice to fashion, she must be entirely excluded 
 from the art of painting-; the painter must never 
 mistake this capricious changeling for the genuine 
 offspring of nature; he must divest himself of all 
 prejudices in favour of his age or country ; he must 
 disregard all local and temporary ornaments, and 
 look only on those general habits which are every- 
 where and always the same ; he addresses his works 
 to the people of every country and every age, he 
 calls upon posterity to be his spectators, and says 
 with Zeuxis, in ceternitatem pingo. 
 
 The neglect of separating modern fashions from 
 the habits of nature leads to that ridiculous style 
 which has been practised by some painters, who 
 have given to Grecian heroes the airs and graces 
 practised in the Court of Louis the Fourteenth ; an 
 absurdity almost as great as it would have been 
 to have dressed them after the fashion of that Court. 
 
 To avoid this error, however, and to retain the 
 true simplicity of nature, is a task more difficult 
 than at first sight it may appear. The prejudices 
 in favour of the fashions and customs that we have 
 been used to, and which are justly called a second 
 nature, make it too often difficult to distinguish 
 that which is natural from that which is the result 
 of education ; they frequently even give a predilec- 
 tion in favour of the artificial mode; and almost 
 everyone is apt to be guided by those local preju- 
 dices, who has not chastised his mind and regu- 
 lated the instability of his affections by the eternal 
 invariable idea of nature. 
 
 Here then, as before, we must have recourse to 
 the ancients as instructors. It is from a careful 
 study of their works that you will be enabled to 
 
 persons, who are trimmed, curled, and painted, than uncorrupt 
 nature can give ; as if beauty were merely the effect of the 
 corruption of manners.** R. 
 
 D 2 
 
36 The Third Discourse 
 
 attain to the real simplicity of nature; they will 
 suggest many observations, which would probably 
 escape you, if your study were confined to nature 
 alone. And, indeed, I cannot help suspecting, that 
 in this instance the ancients had an easier task 
 than the moderns. They had, probably, little or 
 nothing to unlearn, as their manners were nearly 
 approaching to this desirable simplicity ; while the 
 modern artist, before he can see the truth of things, 
 is obliged to remove a veil, with which the fashion 
 of the times has thought proper to cover her. 
 
 Having gone thus far in our investigation of the 
 great style in painting ; if we now should suppose 
 that the artist has found the true idea of beauty, 
 which enables him to give his works a correct and 
 perfect design ; if we should suppose also, that he 
 has acquired a knowledge of the unadulterated 
 habits of nature, which gives him simplicity ; the 
 rest of his task is, perhaps, less than is generally 
 imagined. Beauty and simplicity have so great a 
 share in the composition of a great style, that he 
 who has acquired them has little else to learn. It 
 must not, indeed, be forgotten, that there is a 
 nobleness of conception, which goes beyond any- 
 thing in the mere exhibition even of perfect form ; 
 there is an art of animating and dignifying the 
 figures with intellectual grandeur, of impressing 
 the appearance of philosophic wisdom, or heroic 
 virtue. This can only be acquired by him that en- 
 larges the sphere of his understanding by a variety 
 of knowledge, and warms his imagination with the 
 best productions of ancient and modern poetry. 
 
 A hand thus exercised, and a mind thus in- 
 structed, will bring the art to a higher degree of 
 excellence than, perhaps, it has hitherto attained in 
 this country. Such a student will disdain the 
 humbler walks of painting, which, however profit- 
 able, can never assure him a permanent reputation. 
 
The Third Discourse 37 
 
 He will leave the meaner artist servilely to suppose 
 that those are the best pictures, which are most 
 likely to deceive the spectator. He will permit the 
 lower painter, like the florist or collector of shells, 
 to exhibit the minute discriminations, which dis- 
 tinguish one object of the same species from 
 another; while he, like the philosopher, will con- 
 sider nature in the abstract, and represent in 
 every one of his figures the character of its 
 species. 
 
 If deceiving the eye were the only business of 
 the art, there is no doubt, indeed, but the minute 
 painter would be more apt to succeed ; but it is not 
 the eye, it is the mind, which the painter of genius 
 desires to address ; nor will he waste a moment 
 upon those smaller objects, which only serve to 
 catch the sense, to divide the attention, and to 
 counteract his great design of speaking to the 
 heart. 
 
 This is the ambition which I wish to excite in 
 your minds ; and the object I have had in my view, 
 throughout this discourse, is that one great idea, 
 which gives to painting its true dignity, which 
 entitles it to the name of a liberal art, and ranks 
 it as a sister of poetry. 
 
 It may possibly have happened to many young 
 students, whose application was sufficient to over- 
 come all difficulties, and whose minds were capable 
 of embracing the most extensive views, that they 
 have, by a wrong direction originally given, spent 
 their lives in the meaner walks of painting, without 
 ever knowing there was a nobler to pursue. Albert 
 Diirer, as Vasari has justly remarked, would, prob- 
 ably, have been one of the first painters of his age 
 (and he lived in an era of great artists) had he been 
 initiated into those great principles of the art, which 
 were so well understood and practised by his con- 
 temporaries in Italy. But unluckily having never 
 
38 The Third Discourse 
 
 seen or heard of any other manner, he, without 
 doubt, considered his own as perfect. 
 
 As for the various departments of painting-, which 
 do not presume to make such high pretensions, they 
 are many. None of them are without their merit, 
 though none enter into competition with this uni- 
 versal presiding idea of the art. The painters who 
 have applied themselves more particularly to low 
 and vulgar characters, and who express with pre- 
 cision the various shades of passion, as they are 
 exhibited by vulgar minds (such as we see in the 
 works of Hogarth), deserve great praise; but as 
 their genius has been employed on low and confined 
 subjects, the praise which we give must be as 
 limited as its object. The merry-making, or quar- 
 relling of the boors of Teniers ; the same sort of 
 productions of Brouwer, or Ostade, are excellent 
 in their kind ; and the excellence and its praise will 
 be in proportion, as, in those limited subjects, and 
 peculiar forms, they introduce more or less of the 
 expression of those passions, as they appear in 
 general and more enlarged nature. This principle 
 may be applied to the battle-pieces of Bourgognone 
 the French gallantries of Watteau, and even be- 
 yond the exhibition of animal life, to the landscapes 
 of Claude Lorrain, and the sea views of Vander- 
 velde. All these painters have, in general, the 
 same right, in different degrees, to the name of a 
 painter, which a satirist, an epigrammatist, a son- 
 neteer, a writer of pastorals or descriptive poetry, 
 has to that of a poet. 
 
 In the same rank, and perhaps of not so great 
 merit, is the cold painter of portraits. But his 
 correct and just imitation of his object has its merit. 
 Even the painter of still life, whose highest ambi- 
 tion is to give a minute representation of every part 
 of those low objects which he sets before him, 
 deserves praise in proportion to his attainment; 
 
The Third Discourse 39 
 
 because no part of this excellent art, so much the 
 ornament of polished life, is destitute of value and 
 use. These, however, are by no means the views to 
 which the mind of the student ought to be primarily 
 directed. Having begun by aiming at better things, 
 if from particular inclination, or from the taste of 
 the time and place he lives in, or from necessity, or 
 from failure in the highest attempts, he is obliged to 
 descend lower, he will bring into the lower sphere 
 of art a grandeur of composition and character, that 
 will raise and ennoble his works far above their 
 natural rank. 
 
 A man is not weak, though he may not be able to 
 wield the club of Hercules ; nor does a man always 
 practise that which he esteems the best ; but does 
 that which he can best do. In moderate attempts, 
 there are many walks open to the artist. But as the 
 idea of beauty is of necessity but one, so there can 
 be but one great mode of painting ; the leading prin- 
 ciple of which I have endeavoured to explain. 
 
 I should be sorry, if what is here recommended, 
 should be at all understood to countenance a careless 
 or indetermined manner of painting. For though the 
 painter is to overlook the accidental discriminations 
 of nature, he is to exhibit distinctly, and with pre- 
 cision, the general forms of things. A firm and 
 determined outline is one of the characteristics of the 
 great style in painting ; and let me add, that he who 
 possesses the knowledge of the exact form which 
 every part of nature ought to have, will be fond of 
 expressing that knowledge with correctness and pre- 
 cision in all his works. 
 
 To conclude ; I have endeavoured to reduce the 
 idea of beauty to general principles : and I had the 
 pleasure to observe that the Professor of Painting 
 proceeded in the same method, when he showed you 
 that the artifice of contrast was founded but on one 
 principle. I am convinced that this is the only 
 
40 The Fourth Discourse 
 
 means of advancing- science ; of clearing the mind 
 from a confused heap of contradictory observations, 
 that do but perplex and puzzle the student, when he 
 compares them, or misguide him if he gives himself 
 up to their authority : bringing them under one 
 general head can alone give rest and satisfaction to 
 an inquisitive mind. 
 
 DISCOURSE IV 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy^ on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes^ December lo, 1771. 
 
 General Ideas, the Presiding Principle which regulates every 
 Part of Art ; Invention, Expression, Colouring, and Drapery. 
 — Two Distinct Styles in History-painting ; the Grand, and 
 the Ornamental. — The Schools in which each is to be found. 
 — The Composite Style. — The Style formed on Local 
 Customs and Habits, or a Partial View of Nature. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 The value and rank of every art is in proportion 
 to the mental labour employed in it, or the mental 
 pleasure produced by it. As this principle is ob- 
 served or neglected, our profession becomes either 
 a liberal art, or a mechanical trade. In the hands 
 one man it makes the highest pretensions, as it is 
 addressed to the noblest faculties : in those of 
 another it is reduced to a mere matter of ornament ; 
 and the painter has but the humble province of fur- 
 nishing our apartments with elegance. 
 
 This exertion of mind, which is the only circum- 
 stance that truly ennobles our art, makes the great 
 distinction between the Roman and Venetian 
 schools. I have formerly observed that perfect form 
 is produced by leaving out particularities, and re- 
 taining only general ideas : I shall now endeavour to 
 show that this principle, which I have proved to 
 be metaphysically just, extends itself to every part 
 
The Fourth Discourse 41 
 
 of the art; that it gives what is called the grand 
 style to invention, to composition, to expression, 
 and even to colouring and drapery. 
 
 Invention in painting does not imply the invention 
 of the subject ; for that is commonly supplied by the 
 poet or historian. With respect to the choice, no 
 subject can be proper that is not generally interest- 
 ing. It ought to be either some eminent instance of 
 heroic action, or heroic suffering. There must be 
 something either in the action, or in the object, in 
 which men are universally concerned, and which 
 powerfully strikes upon the public sympathy. 
 
 Strictly speaking, indeed, no subject can be of 
 universal, hardly can it be of general, concern; but 
 there are events and characters so popularly known 
 in those countries where our art is in request, that 
 they may be considered as sufficiently general for all 
 our purposes. Such are the great events of Greek 
 and Roman fable and history, which early education, 
 and the usual course of reading, have made familiar 
 and interesting to all Europe, without being de- 
 graded by the vulgarism of ordinary life in any 
 country. Such too are the capital subjects of Scrip- 
 ture history, which, besides their general notoriety, 
 become venerable by their connection with our re- 
 ligion. 
 
 As it is required that the subject selected should 
 be a general one, it is no less necessary that it should 
 be kept unembarrassed with whatever may in any 
 way serve to divide the attention of the spectator. 
 Whenever a story is related, every man forms a 
 picture in his mind of the action and expression of 
 the persons employed. The power of representing 
 this mental picture on canvas is what we call inven- ^ 
 tion in a painter. And as in the conception of this 
 ideal picture the mind does not enter into the minute 
 peculiarities of the dress, furniture, or scene of 
 action ; so when the painter comes to represent it, he 
 
42 The Fourth Discourse 
 
 contrives those little necessary concomitant circum- 
 stances in such a manner, that they shall strike the 
 spectator no more than they did himself in his first 
 conception of the story. 
 
 I am very ready to allow, that some circumstances 
 of minuteness and particularity frequently tend to 
 give an air of truth to a piece, and to interest the 
 spectator in an extraordinary manner. Such cir- 
 cumstances therefore cannot wholly be rejected : but 
 if there be anything in the art which requires peculiar 
 nicety of discernment, it is the disposition of these 
 minute circumstantial parts ; which, according to the 
 judgment employed in the choice, become so useful 
 to truth, or so injurious to grandeur. 
 
 However, the usual and most dangerous error is 
 on the side of minuteness ; and therefore I think 
 caution most necessary where most have failed. The 
 general idea constitutes real excellence. All smaller 
 things, however perfect in their way, are to be 
 sacrificed without mercy to the greater. The painter 
 will not inquire what things may be admitted with- 
 out much censure : he will not think it enough to 
 show that they may be there ; he will show that they 
 must be there ; that their absence would render his 
 picture maimed and defective. 
 
 Thus, though to the principal group a second or 
 third be added, and a second and third mass of light, 
 care must be yet taken that these subordinate actions 
 and lights, neither each in particular, nor all to- 
 gether, come into any degree of competition with 
 the principal ; they should merely make a part of that 
 whole which would be imperfect without them. To 
 every kind of painting this rule may be applied. 
 Even in portraits, the grace, and, we may add, the 
 likeness, consists more in taking the general air, 
 than in observing the exact similitude of every 
 feature. 
 
 Thus figures must have a ground whereon to 
 
The Fourth Discourse 43 
 
 stand ; they must be clothed ; there must be a back- 
 ground ; there must be light and shadow : but none 
 of these ought to appear to have taken up any part 
 of the artist's attention. They should be so man- 
 aged as not even to catch that of the spectator. We 
 know well enough, when we analyse a piece, the 
 difficulty and the subtilty with which an artist adjusts 
 the background, drapery, and masses of light; we 
 know that a considerable part of the grace and effect 
 of his picture depends upon them ; but this art is so 
 much concealed, even to a judicious eye, that no 
 remains of any of these subordinate parts occur to 
 the memory when the picture is not present. 
 
 The great end of the art is to strike the imagina- 
 tion. The painter therefore is to make no ostenta- 
 tion of the means by which this is done ; the spectator 
 is only to feel the result in his bosom. An inferior 
 artist is unwilling that any part of his industry 
 should be lost upon the spectator. He takes as 
 much pains to discover, as the greater artist does to 
 conceal, the marks of his subordinate assiduity. In 
 works of the lower kind, everything appears studied, 
 and encumbered ; it is all boastful art and open affec- 
 tation. The ignorant often part from such pictures 
 with wonder in their mouths, and indifference in 
 their hearts. 
 
 But it is not enough in invention that the artist 
 should restrain and keep under all the inferior parts 
 of his subject ; he must sometimes deviate from vul- 
 gar and strict historical truth, in pursuing the 
 grandeur of his design. 
 
 How much the great style exacts from its pro- 
 fessors to conceive and represent their subjects in a 
 poetical manner, not confined to mere matter of fact, 
 may be seen in the Cartoons of Raffaelle. In all the 
 pictures in which the painter has represented the 
 Apostles, he has drawn them with great noble- 
 ness; he has given them as much dignity as the 
 
44 The Fourth Discourse 
 
 human figure is capable of receiving; yet we are 
 expressly told in Scripture they had no such respect- 
 able appearance; and of St. Paul in particular, we 
 are told by himself, that his bodily presence was 
 mean, Alexander is said to have been of a low 
 stature : a painter ought not so to represent him. 
 Agesilaus was low, lame, and of a mean appearance : 
 none of these defects ought to appear in a piece of 
 which he is the hero. In conformity to custom, I 
 call this part of the art history painting ; it ought to 
 be called poetical, as in reality it is. 
 
 All this is not falsifying any fact ; it is taking an 
 allowed poetical licence. A painter of portraits 
 retains the individual likeness ; a painter of history 
 shows the man by showing his actions. A painter 
 must compensate the natural deficiencies of his art. 
 He has but one sentence to utter, but one moment 
 to exhibit. He cannot, like the poet or historian, 
 expatiate, and impress the mind with great venera- 
 tion for the character of the hero or saint he repre- 
 sents, though he lets us know at the same time, that 
 the saint was deformed, or the hero lame. The 
 painter has no other means of giving an idea of the 
 dignity of the mind, but by that external appearance 
 which grandeur of thought does generally, though 
 not always, impress on the countenance ; and by 
 that correspondence of figure to sentiment and situa- 
 tion, which all men wish, but cannot command. The 
 painter, who may in this one particular attain with 
 ease what others desire in vain, ought to give all that 
 he possibly can, since there are so many circum- 
 stances of true greatness that he cannot give at all. 
 He cannot make his hero talk like a great man ; he 
 must make him look like one. For which reason, 
 he ought to be well studied in the analysis of those 
 circumstances, which constitute dignity of appear- 
 ance in real life. 
 
 As in invention, so likewise in expression, care 
 
The Fourth Discourse 45 
 
 must be taken not to run into particularities. Those 
 expressions alone should be given to the figures 
 which their respective situations generally produce. 
 Nor is this enough ; each person shouM also have 
 that expression which men of his rank generally 
 exhibit. The joy, or the grief of a character of 
 dignity, is not to be expressed in the same manner 
 as a similar passion in a vulgar face. Uoon this 
 principle, Bernini, perhaps, may be subject to cen- 
 sure. This sculptor, in many respects admirable, 
 has given a very mean expression to his statue of 
 David, who is represented as just going to throw 
 the stone from the sling ; and in order to eive it the 
 expression of energy, he has made him bitiner his 
 under-lip. This expression is far from being 
 general, and still farther from being dignified. He 
 might have seen it in an instance or two; and he 
 mistook accident for g^enerality. 
 
 With respect to colouring, though it may appear 
 at first a part of painting merely mechanical, yet it 
 still has its rules, and those grounded upon that 
 presiding principle which regulates both the great 
 and the little in the study of a painter. By this, the 
 first effect of the picture is produced ; and as this is 
 performed, the spectator, as he walks the gallery, 
 will stop or pass along. To give a general air of 
 grandeur at first view, all trifling or artful play of 
 little lights, or an attention to a variety of tints, is 
 to be avoided ; a quietness and simplicity must reign 
 over the whole work ; to which a breadth of uni- 
 form and simple colour will very much contribute. 
 Grandeur of effect is produced by two different 
 ways, which seem entirely opposed to each other. 
 One is, by reducing the colours to little more than 
 chiaroscuro, which was often the practice of the 
 Bolognian schools ; and the other, by making the 
 colours very distinct and forcible, such as we see 
 in those of Rome and Florence; but still, the pre- 
 
46 The Fourth Discourse 
 
 siding" principle of both those manners is simplicity. 
 Certainly, nothing can be more simple than mono- 
 tony ; and the distinct blue, red, and yellow colours 
 which are seen in the draperies of the Roman and 
 Florentine schools, though they have not that kind 
 of harmony which is produced by a variety of broken 
 and transparent colours, have that effect of grandeur 
 which was intended. Perhaps these distinct colours 
 strike the mind more forcibly, from there not being 
 any great union between them ; as martial music, 
 which is intended to rouse the nobler passions, has 
 its effect from the sudden and strongly marked tran- 
 sitions from one note to another, which that style 
 of music requires ; whilst in that which is intended to 
 move the softer passions, the notes imperceptibly 
 melt into one another. 
 
 In the same manner as the historical painter never 
 enters into the detail of colours, so neither does he 
 debase his conceptions with minute attention to the 
 discriminations of drapery. It is the inferior style 
 that marks the variety of stuffs. With him, the 
 clothing- is neither woollen, nor linen, nor silk, satin^. 
 or velvet : it is drapery ; it is nothing more. The art 
 of disposing the foldings of the drapery makes a 
 very considerable part of the painter^s study. To 
 make it merely natural is a mechanical operation, 
 to which neither genius nor taste are required ; 
 whereas it requires the nicest judgment to dispose 
 the drapery, so that the folds shall have an easy 
 communication, and gracefully follow each other, 
 with such natural negligence as to look like the effect 
 of chance, and at the same time show the figure 
 under it to the utmost advantage. 
 
 Carlo Maratti was of opinion, that the disposition 
 of drapery was a more difficult art than even that of 
 drawing the human figure; that a student might be 
 more easily taught the latter than the former ; as the 
 rules of drapery, he said, could not be so well ascer- 
 
The Fourth Discourse 47 
 
 tained as those for delineating a correct form. This, 
 perhaps, is a proof how wilHngly we favour our own 
 pecuHar excellence. Carlo Maratti is said to have 
 valued himself particularly upon his skill in this part 
 of his art; yet in him, the disposition appears so 
 ostentatiously artificial, that he is inferior to 
 Raffaelle, even in that which gave him his best 
 claim to reputation. 
 
 Such is the great principle by which we must be 
 directed in the nobler branches of our art. Upon 
 this principle, the Roman, the Florentine, the 
 Bolognese schools, have formed their practice; and 
 by this they have deservedly obtained the highest 
 praise. These are the three great schools of the 
 world in the epic style. The best of the French 
 school, Poussin, Le Sueur, and Le Brun, have 
 formed themselves upon these models, and conse- 
 quently may be said, though Frenchmen, to be a 
 colony from the Roman school. Next to these, but 
 in a very different style of excellence, we may rank 
 the Venetian, together with the Flemish and the 
 Dutch schools ; all professing to depart from the 
 great purposes of painting, and catching at applause 
 by inferior qualities. 
 
 I am not ignorant that some will censure me for 
 placing the Venetians in this inferior class, and 
 many of the warmest admirers of painting will 
 think them unjustly degraded ; but I wish not to be 
 misunderstood. Though I can by no means allow 
 them to hold any rank with the nobler schools of 
 painting, they accomplished perfectly the thing they 
 attempted. But as mere elegance is their principal 
 object, as they seem more willing to dazzle than to 
 affect, it can be no injury to them to suppose that 
 their practice is useful only to its proper end. But 
 what may heighten the elegant may degrade the 
 sublime. There is a simplicity, and, I may add, 
 severity, in the great manner, which is, I am afraid, 
 
48 The Fourth Discourse 
 
 almost incompatible with this comparatively sensual 
 style. 
 
 Tintoret, Paul Veronese, and others of the Vene- 
 tian school, seem to have painted with no other 
 purpose than to be admired for their skill and ex- 
 pertness in the mechanism of painting-, and to make 
 a parade of that art, which, as I before observed, 
 the higher style requires its followers to conceal. 
 
 In a conference of the French Academy, at which 
 were present Le Brun, Sebastian Bourdon, and all 
 the eminent artists of that age, one of the Acade- 
 micians desired to have their opinion on the conduct 
 of Paul Veronese, who, though a painter of great 
 consideration, had, contrary to the strict rules of art, 
 in his picture of Perseus and Andromeda, represen- 
 ted the principal figure in shade. To this question 
 no satisfactory answer was then given. But I will 
 venture to say, that if they had considered the class 
 of the artist, and ranked him as an ornamental 
 painter, there would have been no difficulty in 
 answering" — It was unreasonable to expect what 
 was never intended. His intention was solely to 
 produce an effect of light and shadow; everything- 
 was to be sacrificed to that intent, and the capricious 
 composition of that picture suited very well with the 
 style which he professed.*' 
 
 Young minds are indeed too apt to be captivated 
 by this splendour of style ; and that of the Venetians 
 is particularly pleasing ; for by them, all those parts 
 of the art that gave pleasure to the eye or sense, 
 have been cultivated with care, and carried to the 
 degree nearest to perfection. The powers exerted in 
 the mechanical part of the art have been called the 
 languacre of painters ; but we may say, that it is but 
 poor eloquence which only shows that the orator 
 can talk. Words should be employed as the means, 
 not as the end : language is the instrument, con- 
 viction is the work. 
 
The Fourth Discourse 49 
 
 The languag-e of painting- must indeed be allowed 
 these masters ; but even in that, they have shown 
 more copiousness than choice, and more luxuriancy 
 than judgment. If we consider the uninteresting- 
 subjects of their invention, or at least the uninter- 
 esting manner in which they are treated ; if we 
 attend to their capricious composition, their violent 
 and affected contrasts, whether of figures or of light 
 and shadow, the richness of their drapery, and at 
 the same time the mean effect which the discrimina- 
 tion of stuffs gives to their pictures ; if to these we 
 add their total inattention to expression ; and then 
 reflect on the conceptions and the learning of 
 Michael Angelo, or the simplicity of Raffaelle, we 
 can no longer dwell on the comparison. Even in 
 colouring, if we compare the quietness and chastity 
 of the Bolognese pencil to the bustle and tumult that 
 fills every part of a Venetian picture, wi'thout the 
 least attempt to interest the passions, their boasted 
 art will appear a mere struggle without effect ; a 
 tale told hy an idiot, full of sound and fury, signify- 
 ing nothing. 
 
 Such as suppose that the great style might 
 happily be blended with the ornamental, that the 
 simple, grave and majestic dignity of Raffaelle could 
 unite with the glow and bustle of a Paolo, or Tin- 
 toret, are totally mistaken. The principles by which 
 each is attained are so contrary to each other, that 
 they seem, in my opinion, incompatible, and as 
 impossible to exist together, as that in the mind 
 the most sublime ideas and the lowest sensuality 
 should at the same time be united. 
 
 The subjects of the Venetian painters are mostly 
 such as give them an opportunity of introducing a 
 great number of figures; such as feasts, marriages, 
 and processions, public martyrdoms, or miracles. 
 I can easily conceive that Paul Veronese, if he were 
 asked, would say, that no subject was proper for an 
 
 E 
 
50 The Fourth Discourse 
 
 historical picture, but such as admitted at least 
 forty figures ; for in a less number, he would assert, 
 there could be no opportunity of the painter's show- 
 ing his art in composition, his dexterity of managing 
 and disposing the masses of light and groups of 
 figures, and of introducing a variety of Eastern 
 dresses and characters in their rich stuffs. 
 
 But the thing is very different with a pupil of the 
 greater schools. Annibale Caracci thought twelve 
 figures sufficient for any story : he conceived that 
 more would contribute to no end but to fill space ; 
 that they would be but cold spectators of the general 
 action, or, to use his own expression, that they 
 would be figurers to he let. Besides, it is impossible 
 for a picture composed of so many parts to have that 
 effect so indispensably necessary to grandeur, that 
 of one complete whole. However contradictory it 
 may be in geometry, it is true in taste, that many 
 little things will not make a great one. The sub- 
 lime impresses the mind at once with one great idea ; 
 it is a single blow : the elegant indeed may be pro- 
 duced by repetition ; by an accumulation of many 
 minute circumstances. 
 
 However great the difference is between the com- 
 position of the Venetian and the rest of the Italian 
 schools, there is full as great a disparity in the effect 
 of their pictures as produced by colours. And 
 though in this respect the Venetians must be allowed 
 extraordinary skill, yet even that skill, as they have 
 employed it, will but ill correspond with the great 
 style. Their colouring is not only too brilliant, but, 
 I will venture to say, too harmonious, to produce 
 that solidity, steadiness, and simplicity of effect, 
 which heroic subjects require, and which simple or 
 grave colours only can give to a work. That they 
 are to be cautiously studied by those who are 
 ambitious of treading the great walk of history is 
 confirmed, if it wants confirmation, by the greatest 
 
The Fourth Discourse 51 
 
 of all authorities, Michael Angelo. This wonderful 
 man, after having- seen a picture by Titian, told 
 Vasari, who accompanied him,^ that he liked much 
 his colouring and manner"; but then he added, 
 
 that it was a pity the Venetian painters did not 
 learn to draw correctly in their early youth, and 
 adopt a better manner of study. 
 
 By this it appears, that the principal attention of 
 the Venetian painters, in the opinion of Michael 
 Angelo, seemed to be engrossed by the study of 
 colours, to the neglect of the ideal beauty of fornix 
 or propriety of expression. But if general censure 
 was given to that school from the sight of a picture 
 of Titian, how much more heavily and more justly, 
 would the censure fall on Paolo Veronese, and more 
 especially on Tintoret? And here I cannot avoid 
 citing Vasari 's opinion of the style and manner of 
 Tintoret. ''Of all the extraordinary geniuses,"^ 
 says he, that have practised the art of painting, 
 for wild, capricious, extravagant and fantastical 
 inventions, for furious impetuosity and boldness in 
 the execution of his work, there is none like Tin- 
 toret ; his strange whimsies are even beyond 
 extravagance, and his works seem to be produced 
 rather by chance, than in consequence of any pre- 
 vious design, as if he wanted to convince the world 
 
 ^ Dicendo, che molto gli piaceva il colorito suo, e la 
 maniera ; che era un peccato, che a Venezia non 
 
 s'imparasse da principio a disegnare bene, e che non 
 havessano que' pittori miglior modo nello studio. Vas. torn, 
 iii. p. 226. Vita di Tiziano. 
 
 * Nelle cose della pittura, stravagante, capriccioso, presto, 
 e resoluto, et il piu terrible cervello, che habbia havuto mai 
 la pittura, come si pu6 vedere in tutte le sue opere ; e ne* 
 componimenti delle storie, fantastiche, e fatte da lui diver- 
 samente, e fuori dell' uso degli altri pittori : anzi h^ superato 
 la stravaganza, con le nuove, e capricciose inventioni, e strani 
 ghiribizzi del suo intelleto, che ha lavorato a caso, e senza 
 disegno, quasi monstrando che quest' arte k una baia. 
 
52 The Fourth Discourse 
 
 that the art was a trifle, and of the most easy attain- 
 ment/' 
 
 For my own part, when I speak of the Venetian 
 painters, I wish to be understood to mean Paolo 
 Veronese and Tintoret, to the exclusion of Titian ; 
 for thoug-h his style is not so pure as that of many 
 other of the Italian schools, yet there is a sort of 
 senatorial dignity about him, which, however 
 awkward in his imitators, seems to become him ex- 
 ceedingly. His portraits alone, from the nobleness 
 and simplicity of character which he always gave 
 them, will entitle him to the greatest respect, as he 
 undoubtedly stands in the first rank in this branch 
 of the art. 
 
 It is not with Titian, but with the seducing 
 qualities of the two former, that I could wish to 
 caution you against being too much captivated. 
 These are the persons who may be said to have ex- 
 hausted all the powers of florid eloquence, to 
 debauch the young and inexperienced ; and have, 
 without doubt, been the cause of turning off the 
 attention of the connoisseur and of the patron of 
 art, as well as that of the painter, from those higher 
 excellences of which the art is capable, and which 
 ought to be required in every considerable produc- 
 tion. By them, and their imitators, a style merely 
 ornamental has been disseminated throughout all 
 Europe. Rubens carried it to Flanders ; Voet to 
 France ; and Lucca Giordano to Spain and Naples. 
 
 The Venetian is indeed the most splendid of the 
 schools of elegance; and it is not without reason, 
 that the best performances in this lower school are 
 valued higher than the second-rate performances 
 of those above them : for every picture has value 
 when it has a decided character, and is excellent in 
 its kind. But the student must take care not to be 
 so much dazzled with this splendour, as to be 
 tempted to imitate what must ultimately lead from 
 
The Fourth Discourse 53 
 
 perfection. Poussin, whose eye was always steadily 
 fixed on the subHme, has been often heard to say, 
 ** That a particular attention to colourings was an 
 obstacle to the student, in his progress to the great 
 end and design of the art ; and that he who attaches 
 himself to this principal end, will acquire by practice 
 a reasonable good method of colouring. ^ 
 
 Though it be allowed that elaborate harmony of 
 colouring, a brilliancy of tints, a soft and gradual 
 transition from one to another, present to the eye, 
 what an harmonious concert of music does to the ear, 
 it must be remembered, that painting is not merely a 
 gratification of the sight. Such excellence, though 
 properly cultivated, where nothing higher than 
 elegance is intended, is weak and unworthy of 
 regard, when the work aspires to grandeur and sub- 
 limity. 
 
 The same reasons that have been urged to show 
 that a mixture of the Venetian style cannot improve 
 the great style, will hold good in regard to the 
 Flemish and Dutch schools. Indeed the Flemish 
 school, of which Rubens is the head, was formed 
 upon that of the Venetian; like them, he took his 
 figures too much from the people before him. But 
 it must be allowed in favour of the Venetians, that 
 he was more gross than they, and carried all their 
 mistaken methods to a far greater excess. In the 
 Venetian school itself, where they all err from the 
 same cause, there is a difference in the effect. The 
 difference between Paolo and Bassano seems to be 
 only, that one introduced Venetian gentlemen into 
 his pictures, and the other the boors of the district 
 of Bassano, and called them patriarchs and prophets. 
 
 The painters of the Dutch school have still more 
 
 1 Que cette application singuli^re n'etait qu'un obstacle 
 pour empecher de parvenir au veritable but de la peinture, et 
 celui qui s'attache au principal, acquiert par la pratique une 
 asscz belle mani^re de peindre. Conf(^rence de I'Acad. Frang. 
 
54 The Fourth Discourse 
 
 locality. With them, a history-piece is properly a 
 portrait of themselves ; whether they describe the 
 inside or outside of their houses, we have their own 
 people engaged in their own peculiar occupations ; 
 working or drinking, playing or fighting. The 
 circumstances that enter into a picture of this kind 
 are so far from giving a general view of human life, 
 that they exhibit all the minute particularities of a 
 nation differing in several respects from the rest of 
 mankind. Yet, let them have their share of more 
 humble praise. The painters of this school are ex- 
 cellent in their own way ; they are only ridiculous 
 when they attempt general history on their own 
 narrow principles, and debase great events by the 
 meanness of their characters. 
 
 Some inferior dexterity, some extraordinary 
 mechanical power is apparently that from which they 
 seek distinction. Thus, we see, that school alone 
 has the custom of representing candle-light not as it 
 really appears to us by night, but red, as it would 
 illuminate objects to a spectator by day. Such 
 tricks, however pardonable in the little style, where 
 petty effects are the sole end, are inexcusable in the 
 greater, where the attention should never be drawn 
 aside by trifles, but should be entirely occupied by 
 the subject itself. 
 
 The same local principles which characterise the 
 Dutch school extend even to their landscape- 
 painters ; and Rubens himself, who has painted 
 many landscapes, has sometimes transgressed in this 
 particular. Their pieces in this way are, I think, al- 
 ways a representation of an individual spot, and 
 each in its kind a very faithful but a very confined 
 portrait. Claude Lorrain, on the contrary, was 
 convinced, that taking nature as he found it seldom 
 produced beauty. His pictures are a composition 
 of the various drafts which he had previously 
 made from various beautiful scenes and prospects. 
 
The Fourth Discourse 55 
 
 However, Rubens in some measure has made 
 amends for the deficiency with which he is charged ; 
 he has contrived to raise and animate his otherwise 
 uninteresting views, by introducing a rainbow, 
 storm, or some particular accidental effect of light. 
 That the practice of Claude Lorrain, in respect to 
 his choice, is to be adopted by landscape-painters in 
 opposition to that of the Flemish and Dutch schools, 
 there can be no doubt, as its truth is founded upon 
 the same principle as that by which the historical 
 painter acquires perfect form. But whether land- 
 scape-painting has a right to aspire so far as to re- 
 ject what the painters call accidents of nature, is not 
 easy to determine. It is certain Claude Lorrain 
 seldom, if ever, availed himself of those accidents ; 
 either he thought that such peculiarities were con- 
 trary to that style of general nature which he pro- 
 fessed, or that it would catch the attention too 
 strongly, and destroy that quietness and repose 
 which he thought necessary to that kind of painting. 
 
 A portrait-painter likewise, when he attempts 
 history, unless he is upon his guard, is likely to 
 enter too much into the detail. He too frequently 
 makes his historical heads look like portraits ; and 
 this was once the custom amongst those old 
 painters, who revived the art before general ideas 
 were practised or understood. A history-painter 
 paints man in general ; a portrait-painter, a particu- 
 lar man, and consequently a defective model. 
 
 Thus an habitual practice in the lower exercises of 
 the art will prevent many from attaining the greater. 
 But such of us who move in these humbler walks of 
 the profession, are not ignorant that, as the natural 
 dignity of the subject is less, the more all the little 
 ornamental helps are necessary to its embellishment. 
 It would be ridiculous for a painter of domestic 
 scenes, of portraits, landscapes, animals, or still 
 life, to say that he despised those qualities which 
 
56 The Fourth Discourse 
 
 have made the subordinate schools so famous. The 
 art of colouring-, and the skilful management of 
 light and shadow, are essential requisites in his con- 
 fined labours. If we descend still lower, what is 
 the painter of fruit and flowers without the utmost 
 art in colouring, and what the painters call hand- 
 ling; that is, a lightness of pencil that implies great 
 practice, and gives the appearance of being done 
 with ease? Some here, I believe, must remember a 
 flower-painter whose boast it was, that he scorned 
 to paint for the million : no, he professed to paint in 
 the true Italian taste; and despising the crowd, 
 called strenuously upon the few to admire him. His 
 idea of the Italian taste was to paint as black and 
 dirty as he could, and to leave all clearness and 
 brilliancy of colouring to those who were fonder of 
 money than immortality. The consequence was 
 such as might be expected. For these petty excel- 
 lences are here essential beauties ; and without this 
 merit the artist's work will be more short-lived than 
 the objects of his imitation. 
 
 From what has been advanced, we must now be 
 convinced that there are two distinct styles in 
 history-painting : the grand, and the splendid or 
 ornamental. 
 
 The great style stands alone, and does not require, 
 perhaps does not so well admit, any addition from 
 inferior beauties. The ornamental style also pos- 
 sesses its own peculiar merit. However, though 
 the union of the two may make a sort of composite 
 style, yet that style is likely to be more imperfect 
 than either of those which go to its composition. 
 Both kinds have merit, and may be excellent though 
 in different ranks, if uniformity be preserved, and 
 the general and particular ideas of nature be not 
 mixed. Even the meanest of them is difficult 
 enough to attain ; and the first place being already 
 occupied by the great artists in each department, 
 
The Fourth Discourse 57 
 
 some of those who followed thought there was less 
 room for them, and feeling- the impulse of ambition 
 and the desire of novelty, and being at the same time 
 perhaps willing- to take the shortest way, en- 
 deavoured to make for themselves a place between 
 both. This they have effected by forming a union 
 of the different orders. But as the grave and majes- 
 tic style would suffer by a union with the florid and 
 gay, so also has the Venetian ornament in some 
 respect been injured by attempting an alliance with 
 simplicity. 
 
 It may be asserted, that the great style is always 
 more or less contaminated by any meaner mixture. 
 But it happens in a few instances, that the lower may 
 be improved by borrowing from the grand. Thus 
 if a portrait-painter is desirous to raise and improve 
 his subject, he has no other means than by approach- 
 ing it to a general idea. He leaves out all the 
 minute breaks and peculiarities in the face, and 
 changes the dress from a temporary fashion to one 
 more permanent, which has annexed to it no ideas 
 of meanness from its being familiar to us. But if an 
 exact resemblance of an individual be considered as 
 the sole object to be aimed at, the portrait-painter 
 will be apt to lose more than he gains by the acquired 
 dignity taken from general nature. It is very diffi- 
 cult to ennoble the character of a countenance but at 
 the expense of the likeness, which is what is most 
 generally required by such as sit to the painter. 
 
 Of those who have practised the composite style, 
 and have succeeded in this perilous attempt, perhaps 
 the foremost is Correggio. His style is founded 
 upon modern grace and elegance, to which is super- 
 added something of the simplicity of the grand 
 style. A breadth of light and colour, the general 
 ideas of the drapery, an uninterrupted flow of out- 
 line, all conspire to this effect. Next to him (per- 
 haps equal to him) Parmegiano has dignified the 
 
58 The Fourth Discourse 
 
 gfenteelness of modern effeminacy, by uniting- it with 
 the simplicity of the ancients and the grandeur and 
 severity of Michael Angelo. It must be confessed, 
 however, that these two extraordinary men, by en- 
 deavouring to g-ive the utmost degree of grace, have 
 sometimes perhaps exceeded its boundaries, and 
 have fallen into the most hateful of all hateful quali- 
 ties, affectation. Indeed, it is the peculiar char- 
 acteristic of men of g-enius to be afraid of coldness 
 and insipidity, from which they think they never can 
 be too far removed. It particularly happens to these 
 great masters of gfrace and elegance. They often 
 boldly drive on to the very verge of ridicule ; the 
 spectator is alarmed, but at the same time admires 
 their vigour and intrepidity : 
 
 Strange graces still, and stranger flights they had, 
 
 Yet ne'er so sure our passion to create, 
 
 As when they touch 'd the brink of all we hate. 
 
 The errors of genius, however, are pardonable, 
 and none even of the more exalted painters are 
 wholly free from them ; but they have taught us, by 
 the rectitude of their general practice, to correct their 
 own affected or accidental deviation. The very 
 first have not been always upon their guard, and 
 perhaps there is not a fault, but what may take 
 shelter under the most venerable authorities ; yet 
 that style only is perfect, in which the noblest prin- 
 ciples are uniformly pursued ; and those masters only 
 are entitled to the first rank in our estimation, who 
 have enlarged the boundaries of their art, and have 
 raised it to its highest dignity, by exhibiting the 
 general ideas of nature. 
 
 On the whole, it seems to me that there is but one 
 presiding principle, which regulates and gives 
 stability to every art. The works, whether of poets, 
 painters, moralists, or historians, which are built 
 upon q-eneral nature, live for ever ; vv^hile those which 
 
The Fifth Discourse 59 
 
 depend for their existence on particular customs and 
 habits, a partial view of nature, or the fluctuation of 
 fashion, can only be coeval with that which first 
 raised them from obscurity. Present time and 
 future may be considered as rivals, and he who 
 solicits the one must expect to be discountenanced 
 by the other. 
 
 DISCOURSE V 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December lo, 1772. 
 
 Circumspection required in endeavouring to unite Contrary 
 Excellencies. — The Expression of a Mixed Passion not to 
 be attempted. — Examples of those who excelled in the Great 
 Style ; — Raffaelle, Michael Angelo : Those two Extraor- 
 dinary Men compared with each other. The Characteris- 
 tical Style. — Salvator Rosa mentioned as an Example of 
 that Style ; and opposed to Carlo Maratti. — Sketch of the 
 Characters of Poussin and Rubens : These two Painters 
 entirely Dissimilar, but Consistent with themselves. This 
 Consistency required in All Parts of the Art. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 I PURPOSE to carry on in this discourse the sub- 
 ject which I began in my last. It was my wish upon 
 that occasion to incite you to pursue the higher 
 excellences of the art. But I fear that in this par- 
 ticular I have been misunderstood. Some are ready 
 to imagine, when any of their favourite acquirements 
 in the art are properly classed, that they are utterly 
 disgraced. This is a very great mistake : nothing 
 has its proper lustre but in its proper place. That 
 which is most worthy of esteem in its allotted sphere, 
 becomes an object, not of respect, but of derision, 
 when it is forced into a higher, to which it is not 
 suited ; and there it becomes doubly a source of dis- 
 order, by occupying a situation which is not natural 
 
6o The Fifth Discourse 
 
 to it, and by putting down from the first place what 
 is in reality of too much magnitude to become with 
 grace and proportion that subordinate station, to 
 which something of less value would be much better 
 suited. 
 
 My advice in a word is this : keep your principal 
 attention fixed upon the higher excellences. If you 
 compass them, and compass nothing more, you are 
 still in the first class. We may regret the innumer- 
 able beauties which you may want ; you may be very 
 imperfect ; but still, you are an imperfect artist of 
 the highest order. 
 
 If, when you have got thus far, you can add any, 
 or all, of the subordinate qualifications, it is my wish 
 and advice that you should not neglect them. But 
 this is as much a matter of circumspection and 
 caution, at least, as of eagerness and pursuit. 
 
 The mind is apt to be distracted by a multiplicity 
 of objects ; and that scale of perfection, which I wish 
 always to be preserved, is in the greatest danger of 
 being totally disordered, and even inverted. 
 
 Some excellences bear to be united, and are im- 
 proved by union ; others are of a discordant nature ; 
 and the attempt to join them only produces a harsh 
 jarring of incongruent principles. The attempt to 
 unite contrary excellences (of form, for instance) in 
 a single figure, can never escape degenerating into 
 the monstrous, but by sinking into the insipid ; by 
 taking away its marked character, and weakening 
 its expression. 
 
 This remark is true to a certain degree with regard 
 to the passions. If you mean to preserve the most 
 perfect beauty in its most perfect state^ you cannot 
 express the passions, all of which produce distortion 
 and deformity, more or less, in the most beautiful 
 faces. 
 
 Guido, from want of choice in adapting his sub- 
 ject to his ideas and his powers, or from attempting 
 
The Fifth Discourse 6i 
 
 to preserve beauty where it could not be preserved, 
 has in this respect succeeded very ill. His figures 
 are often engaged in subjects that required great 
 expression ; yet his Judith and Holofernes, the 
 daughter of Herodias with the Baptist's head, the 
 Andromeda, and some even of the Mothers of the 
 Innocents, have little more expression than his 
 Venus attired by the Graces. 
 
 Obvious as these remarks appear, there are many 
 writers on our art, who, not being of the profession, 
 and consequently not knowing what can or cannot be 
 done, have been very liberal of absurd praises in 
 their descriptions of favourite works. They always 
 find in them what they are resolved to find. They 
 praise excellences that can hardly exist together ; 
 and above all things are fond of describing with 
 great exactness the expression of a mixed passion, 
 which more particularly appears to me out of the 
 reach of our art. 
 
 Such are many disquisitions which I have read on 
 some of the cartoons and other pictures of Raffaelle, 
 where the critics have described their own imagina- 
 tions; or indeed where the excellent master himself 
 may have attempted this expression of passions 
 above the powers of the art ; and has, therefore, by 
 an indistinct and imperfect marking, left room for 
 every imagination, with equal probability, to find a 
 passion of his own. What has been, and what can 
 be done in the art, is sufficiently difficult ; we need 
 not be mortified or discouraged at not being able to 
 execute the conceptions of a romantic imagination. 
 Art has its boundaries, though imagination has 
 none. We can easily, like the ancients, suppose a 
 Jupiter to be possessed of all those powers and per- 
 fections which the subordinate deities were en- 
 dowed with separately. Yet, when they employed 
 their art to represent him, they confined his char- 
 acter to majesty alone. Pliny, therefore, though 
 
62 The Fifth Discourse 
 
 we are under great obligations to him for the in- 
 formation he has given us in relation to the works of 
 the ancient artists, is very frequently wrong when 
 he speaks of them, which he does very often, in the 
 style of many of our modern connoisseurs. He 
 observes, that in a statue of Paris, by Euphranor, 
 you might discover at the same time three different 
 characters ; the dignity of a Judge of the Goddesses, 
 the Lover of Helen, and the Conqueror of Achilles. 
 A statue in which you endeavour to unite stately 
 dignity, youthful elegance, and stern valour, must 
 surely possess none of these to any eminent degree. 
 
 From hence it appears, that there is much diffi- 
 culty as well as danger, in an endeavour to con- 
 centrate in a single subject those various powers, 
 which, rising from different points, naturally move 
 in different directions. 
 
 The summit of excellence seems to be an 
 assemblage of contrary qualities, but mixed, in such 
 proportions, that no one part is found to counteract 
 the other. How hard this is to be attained in every 
 art, those only know, who have made the greatest 
 progress in their respective professions. 
 
 To conclude what I have to say on this part of the 
 subject, which I think of great importance, I wish 
 you to understand, that I do not discourage the 
 younger students from the noble attempt of uniting 
 all the excellences of art; but suggest to them, 
 that, besides the difficulties which attend every 
 arduous attempt, there is a peculiar difficulty in 
 the choice of the excellences which ought to be 
 united. I wish you to attend to this, that you may 
 try yourselves, whenever you are capable of that 
 trial, what you can, and what you cannot do; and 
 that, instead of dissipating your natural faculties 
 over the immense field of possible excellence, you 
 may choose some particular walk in which you may 
 exercise all your powers ; in order that each of you 
 
The Fifth Discourse 63 
 
 may become the first in his way. If any man shall 
 be master of such a transcendent, commanding, and 
 ductile genius, as to enable him to rise to the 
 highest, and to stoop to the lowest, flights of art, 
 and to sweep over all of them unobstructed and 
 secure, he is fitter to give example than to receive 
 instruction. 
 
 Having said thus much on the union of excel- 
 lences, I will next say something of the subordina- 
 tion in which various excellences ought to be kept. 
 
 I am of opinion, that the ornamental style, which 
 in my discourse of last year I cautioned you against, 
 considering it as principal^ may not be wholly 
 unworthy the attention even of those who aim at 
 the grand style, when it is properly placed and 
 properly reduced. 
 
 But this study will be used with far better effect,- 
 if its principles are employed in softening the harsh- 
 ness and mitigating the rigour of the great style, 
 than if it attempt to stand forward with any preten- 
 sions of its own to positive and original excellence. 
 It was thus Lodovico Caracci, whose example I 
 formerly recommended to you, employed it. He 
 was acquainted with the works both of Correggio 
 and the Venetian painters, and knew the principles 
 by which they produced those pleasing effects which 
 at the first glance prepossess us so much in their 
 favour; but he took only as much from each as 
 would embellish, but not overpower, that manly 
 strength and energy of style, which is his peculiar 
 character. 
 
 Since I have already expatiated so largely in my 
 former discourse, and in my present, upon the 
 styles and characters of painting, it will not be at 
 all unsuitable to my subject if I mention to you some 
 particulars relative to the leading principles and 
 capital works of those who excelled in the great 
 style; that I may bring you from abstraction nearer 
 
64 The Fifth Discourse 
 
 to practice, and by exemplifying the positions which 
 I have laid down, enable you to understand more 
 clearly what I would enforce. 
 
 The principal works of modern art are in fresco, 
 a mode of painting which excludes attention to 
 minute elegances : yet these works in fresco are 
 the productions on which the fame of the greatest 
 masters depends : such are the pictures of Michael 
 Angelo and Raff aelle in the Vatican ; to which we 
 may add the cartoons ; which, though not strictly to 
 be called fresco, yet may be put under that denomi- 
 nation ; and such are the works of Giulio Romano 
 at Mantua. If these performances were destroyed, 
 with them would be lost the best part of the reputa- 
 tion of those illustrious painters ; for these are justly 
 considered as the greatest efforts of our art which 
 the world can boast. To these, therefore, we 
 should principally direct our attention for higher 
 excellences. As for the lower arts, as they have 
 been once discovered, they may be easily attained 
 by those possessed of the former. 
 
 Raffaelle, who stands in general foremost of the 
 first painters, owes his reputation, as I have 
 observed, to his excellence in the higher parts of 
 the art : his works in fresco, therefore, ought to be 
 the first object of our study and attention. His 
 easel-works stand in a lower degree of estimation : 
 for though he continually, to the day of his death, 
 embellished his performances more and more with 
 the addition of those lower ornaments, which en- 
 tirely make the merit of some painters, yet he never 
 arrived at such perfection as to make him an object 
 of imitation. He never was able to conquer per- 
 fectly that dryness, or even littleness of manner, 
 which he inherited from his master. He never 
 acquired that nicety of taste in colours, that breadth 
 of light and shadow, that art and management of 
 uniting light to light, and shadow to shadow, so as 
 
The Fifth Discourse 65 
 
 to make the object rise out of the ground with that 
 plenitude of effect so much admired in the works of 
 Correggio. When he painted in oil, his hand 
 seemed to be so cramped and confined, that he not 
 only lost that facility and spirit, but I think even 
 that correctness of form, which is so perfect and 
 admirable in his fresco-works. I do not recollect 
 any pictures of his of this kind, except perhaps the 
 Transfiguration, in which there are not some parts 
 that appear to be even feebly drawn. That this is 
 not a necessary attendant on oil-painting, we have 
 abundant instances in more modern painters. 
 Lodovico Caracci, for instance, preserved in his 
 works in oil the same spirit, vigour, and correctness 
 which he had in fresco. I have no desire to degrade 
 Raffaelle from the high rank which he deservedly 
 holds : but by comparing him with himself, he does 
 not appear to me to be the same man in oil as in 
 fresco. 
 
 From those who have ambition to tread in this 
 great walk of the art, Michael Angelo claims the 
 next attention. He did not possess so many ex- 
 cellences as Raifaelle, but those which he had were 
 of the highest kind. He considered the art as con- 
 sisting of little more than what may be attained by 
 sculpture : correctness of form, and energy of 
 character. We ought not to expect more than an 
 artist intends in his work. He never attempted 
 those lesser elegances and graces in the art. 
 Vasari says, he never painted but one picture in oil, 
 and resolved never to paint another, saying, it was 
 an employment only fit for women and children. 
 
 If any man had a right to look down upon the 
 lower accomplishments as beneath his attention, it 
 was certainly Michael Angelo ; nor can it be thought 
 strange, that such a mind should have slighted or 
 have been withheld from paying due attention to 
 
 F 
 
66 The Fifth Discourse 
 
 all those graces and embellishments of art, which 
 have diffused such lustre over the works of other 
 painters. 
 
 It must be acknowledged, however, that together 
 with these, which we wish he had more attended 
 to, he has rejected all the false, though specious 
 ornaments, which disgrace the works even of the 
 most esteemed artists ; and I will venture to say, 
 that when those higher excellences are more known 
 and cultivated by the artists and the patrons of arts, 
 his fame and credit will increase with our increas- 
 ing knowledge. His name will then be held in the 
 same veneration as it was in the enlightened age of 
 Leo the Tenth : and it is remarkable that the repu- 
 tation of this truly great man has been continually 
 declining as the art itself has declined. For I 
 must remark to you, that it has long been much 
 on the decline, and that our only hope of its revival 
 will consist in your being thoroughly sensible of its 
 depravation and decay. It is to Michael Angelo, 
 that we owe even the existence of Raffaelle : it is 
 to him Raffaelle owes the grandeur of his style. 
 He was taught by him to elevate his thoughts, and 
 to conceive his subjects with dignity. His genius, 
 however formed to blaze and to shine, might, like 
 fire in combustible matter, for ever have lain dor- 
 mant, if it had not caught a spark by its contact 
 with Michael Angelo : and though it never burst 
 out with his extraordinary heat and vehemence, yet 
 it must be acknowledged to be a more pure, regu- 
 lar, and chaste flame. Though our judgment must 
 upon the whole decide in favour of Raffaelle, yet 
 he never takes such a firm hold and entire posses- 
 sion of the mind as to make us desire nothing else, 
 and to feel nothing wanting. The effect of the 
 capital works of Michael Angelo perfectly corre- 
 sponds to what Bouchardon said he felt from read- 
 ing Homer; his whole frame appeared to himself 
 
The Fifth Discourse 67 
 
 to be enlarg-ed, and all nature which surrounded 
 him, diminished to atoms. 
 
 If we put these great artists in a light of com- 
 parison with each other, Raffaelle had more taste 
 and fancy, Michael Angelo more genius and ima- 
 gination. The one excelled in beauty, the other in 
 energy. Michael Angelo has more of the poetical 
 inspiration ; his ideas are vast and sublime ; his 
 people are a superior order of beings ; there is 
 nothing about them, nothing in the air of their 
 actions or their attitudes, or the style and cast of 
 their limbs or features, that reminds us of their 
 belonging to our own species. Raffaelle's ima- 
 gination is not so elevated ; his figures are not so 
 much disjoined from our own diminutive race of 
 beings, though his ideas are chaste, noble, and of 
 great conformity to their subjects. Michael 
 Angelo's works have a strong, peculiar, and 
 marked character : they seem to proceed from his 
 own mind entirely, and that mind so rich and 
 abundant, that he never needed, or seemed to dis- 
 dain, to look abroad for foreign help. Raffaelle's 
 materials are generally borrowed, though the noble 
 structure is his own. The excellency of this extra- 
 ordinary man lay in the propriety, beauty, and 
 majesty of his characters, the judicious contrivance 
 of his composition, his correctness of drawing, 
 purity of taste, and skilful accommodation of other 
 men's conceptions to his own purpose. Nobody 
 excelled him in that judgment, with which he united 
 to his own observations on nature, the energy of 
 Michael Angelo, and the beauty and simplicity of 
 the antique. To the question, therefore, which 
 ought to hold the first rank, Raffaelle or Michael 
 Angelo, it must be answered, that if it is to be 
 given to him who possessed a greater combination 
 of the higher qualities of the art than any other 
 man, there is no doubt but Raffaelle is the first. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 The Fifth Discourse 
 
 But if, as Longinus thinks, the sublime, being the 
 highest excellence that human composition can 
 attain to, abundantly compensates the absence of 
 every other beauty, and atones for all other deficien- 
 cies, then Michael Angelo demands the preference. 
 
 These two extraordinary men carried some of the 
 higher excellences of the art to a greater degree 
 of perfection than probably they ever arrived at 
 before. They certainly have not been excelled, nor 
 equalled since. Many of their successors were in- 
 duced to leave this great road as a beaten path, 
 endeavouring to surprise and please by something 
 uncommon or new. When this desire of novelty 
 has proceeded from mere idleness or caprice, it is 
 not worth the trouble of criticism ; but when it has 
 been the result of a busy mind of a peculiar com- 
 plexion, it is always striking and interesting, never 
 insipid. 
 
 Such is the great style, as it appears in those who 
 possessed it at its height : in this, search after 
 novelty, in conception or in treating the subject, 
 has no place. 
 
 But there is another style, which, though inferior 
 to the former, has still great merit, because it shows 
 that those who cultivated it were men of lively 
 and vigorous imagination. This, which may be 
 called the original or characteristical style, being 
 less referred to any true archetype existing either 
 in general or particular nature, must be supported 
 by the painter's consistency in the principles which 
 he has assumed, and in the union and harmony of 
 his whole design. The excellency of every style, 
 but of the subordinate styles more especially, will 
 very much depend on preserving that union and 
 harmony between all the component parts, that 
 they may appear to hang well together, as if the 
 whole proceeded from one mind. It is in the works 
 of art, as in the characters of men. The faults or 
 
The Fifth Discourse 69 
 
 defects of some men seem to become them, when 
 they appear to be the natural growth, and of a piece 
 with the rest of their character. A faithful picture 
 of a mind, though it be not of the most elevated 
 kind, though it be irregular, wild, and incorrect, 
 yet if it be marked with that spirit and firmness 
 which characterises works of genius, will claim 
 attention, and be more striking than a combination 
 of excellences that do not seem to unite well to- 
 gether ; or we may say, than a work that possesses 
 even all excellences, but those in a moderate 
 degree. 
 
 One of the strongest-marked characters of this 
 kind, which must be allowed to be subordinate to 
 the great style, is that of Salvator Rosa. He gives 
 us a peculiar cast of nature, which, though void of 
 all grace, elegance, and simplicity, though it has 
 nothing of that elevation and dignity which belongs 
 to the grand style, yet has that sort of dignity 
 which belongs to savage and uncultivated 
 nature : but what is most to be admired in him 
 is the perfect correspondence which he observed 
 between the subjects which he chose and his manner 
 of treating them. Everything is of a piece : his 
 rocks, trees, sky, even to his handling, have the 
 same rude and wild character which animates his 
 figures. 
 
 With him we may contrast the character of Carlo 
 Maratti, who, in my opinion, had no great vigour 
 of mind or strength of original genius. He rarely 
 seizes the imagination by exhibiting the higher ex- 
 cellences, nor does he captivate us by that origin- 
 ality which attends the painter who thinks for him- 
 self. He knew and practised all the rules of 
 art, and from a composition of Raffaelle, Caracci, 
 and Guido, made up a style, of which the only fault 
 was, that it had no manifest defects and no striking 
 beauties ; and that the principles of his composition 
 
70 The Fifth Discourse 
 
 are never blended together, so as to form one uni- 
 form body, original in its kind, or excellent in any 
 view. 
 
 I will mention two other painters, who, though 
 entirely dissimilar, yet by being each consistent 
 with himself, and possessing a manner entirely his 
 own, have both gained reputation, though for very 
 opposite accomplishments. The painters I mean 
 are Rubens and Poussin. Rubens I mention in 
 this place, as I think him a remarkable instance of 
 the same mind being seen in all the various parts 
 of the art. The whole is so much of a piece, that 
 one can scarce be brought to believe but that if any 
 one of the qualities he possessed had been more 
 correct and perfect, his works would not have been 
 so complete as they now appear. If we should 
 allow him a greater purity and correctness of draw- 
 ing, his want of simplicity in composition, colour- 
 ing, and drapery would appear more gross. 
 
 In his composition his art is too apparent. His 
 figures have expression, and act with 'energy, but 
 without simplicity or dignity. His colouring, in 
 which he is eminently skilled, is notwithstanding 
 too much of what we call tinted. Throughout the 
 whole of his works, there is a proportionable want 
 of that nicety of distinction and elegance of mind, 
 which is required in the higher walks of painting ; 
 and to this want it may be in some degree ascribed, 
 that those qualities which make the excellency of 
 this subordinate style, appear in him with their 
 greatest lustre. Indeed the facility with which he 
 invented, the richness of his composition, the luxu- 
 riant harmony and brilliancy of his colouring, so 
 dazzle the eye, that whilst his works continue be- 
 fore us, we cannot help thinking that all his defici- 
 encies are fully supplied.^ 
 
 * A more detailed character of Rubens may be found in 
 
The Fifth Discourse 71 
 
 Opposed to this florid, careless, loose, and inac- 
 curate style, that of the simple, careful, pure, and 
 correct style of Poussin seems to be a complete 
 contrast. Yet however opposite their characters, 
 in one thing they agreed ; both of them always pre- 
 serving a perfect correspondence between all the 
 parts of their respective manners : insomuch that it 
 may be doubted whether any alteration of what is 
 considered as defective in either, would not destroy 
 the effect of the whole. 
 
 Poussin lived and conversed with the ancient 
 statues so long, that he may be said to have been 
 better acquainted with them, than with the people 
 who were about him. I have often thought that 
 he carried his veneration for them so far as to wish 
 to give his works the air of ancient paintings. It 
 is certain he copied some of the antique paintings, 
 particularly the Marriage in the Aldobrandini 
 Palace at Rome, which I believe to be the best relic 
 of those remote ages that has yet been found. 
 
 No works of any modern has so much of the air 
 of antique painting as those of Poussin. His best 
 performances have a remarkable dryness of manner, 
 which though by no means to be recommended for 
 imitation, yet seems perfectly correspondent to that 
 ancient simplicity which distinguishes his style. 
 Like Polidoro, he studied the ancients so much, 
 that he acquired a habit of thinking in their way, 
 and seemed to know perfectly the actions and ges- 
 tures they would use on every occasion. 
 
 Poussin in the latter part of his life changed from 
 his dry manner to one much softer and richer, where 
 there is a greater union between the figures and 
 ground ; as in the Seven Sacraments in the Duke of 
 Orleans's collection; but neither these, nor any of 
 his other pictures in this manner, are at all compar- 
 
 the Journey to Flanders and Holland," near the con- 
 clusion. M. 
 
72 The Fifth Discourse 
 
 able to many in his dry manner which we have in 
 Eng-land. 
 
 The favourite subjects of Poussin were ancient 
 fables ; and no painter was ever better qualified to 
 paint such subjects, not only from his being emin- 
 ently skilled in the knowledge of the ceremonies, 
 customs and habits of the ancients, but from his 
 being so well acquainted with the different char- 
 acters which those who invented them gave to their 
 allegorical figures. Though Rubens has shown 
 great fancy in his Satyrs, Silenuses, and Fauns, yet 
 they are not that distinct separate class of beings, 
 which is carefully exhibited by the ancients, and by 
 Poussin. Certainly when such subjects of antiquity 
 are represented, nothing in the picture ought to 
 remind us of modern times. The mind is thrown 
 back into antiquity, and nothing ought to be intro- 
 duced that may tend to awaken it from the illusion. 
 
 Poussin seemed to think that the style and the 
 language in which such stories are told, is not the 
 worse for preserving some relish of the old way of 
 painting, which seemed to give a general uniformity 
 to the whole, so that the mind was thrown back into 
 antiquity not only by the subject, but the execution. 
 
 If Poussin in imitation of the ancients represents 
 Apollo driving his chariot out of the sea by way of 
 representing the sun rising, if he personifies lakes 
 and rivers, it is nowise offensive in him ; but seems 
 perfectly of a piece with the general air of the 
 picture. On the contrary, if the figures which 
 people his pictures had a modern air or countenance, 
 if they appeared like our countrymen, if the 
 draperies were like cloth or silk of our manufacture, 
 if the landscape had the appearance of a modern 
 view, how ridiculous would Apollo appear instead of 
 the sun; an old man, or a nymph with an urn, to 
 represent a river or a lake ! 
 
 I cannot avoid mentioning here a circumstance in 
 
The Fifth Discourse 73 
 
 portrait-painting', which may help to confirm what 
 has been said. When a portrait is painted in the 
 historical style, as it is neither an exact minute re- 
 presentation of an individual, nor completely ideal, 
 every circumstance oug-ht to correspond to this 
 mixture. The simplicity of the antique air and 
 attitude, however much to be admired, is ridi- 
 culous when joined to a figure in a modern dress. 
 It is not to my purpose to enter into the question 
 at present, whether this mixed style ought to be 
 adopted or not ; yet if it is chosen, 'tis necessary it 
 should be complete and all of a piece : the difference 
 of stulfs, for instance, which make the clothing, 
 should be distinguished in the same degree as the 
 head deviates from a general idea. Without this 
 union, which I have so often recommended, a work 
 can have no marked and determined character, 
 which is the peculiar and constant evidence of 
 genius. But when this is accomplished to a high 
 degree, it becomes in some sort a rival to that style 
 which we have fixed as the highest. 
 
 Thus I have given a sketch of the characters of 
 Rubens and Salvator Rosa, as they appear to me to 
 have the greatest uniformity of mind throughout 
 their whole work. But we may add to these, all 
 those artists who are at the head of a class, and have 
 had a school of imitators, from Michael Angelo down 
 to Watteau. Upon the whole it appears, that 
 setting aside the ornamental style* there are two 
 different modes, either of which a student may adopt 
 without degradinof the dignity of his art. The 
 object of the first is, to combine the higher 
 excellences and embellish them to the greatest 
 advantage ; of the other, to carry one of these 
 excellences to the highest degree. But those 
 who possess neither must be classed with them, 
 who, as Shakspeare says, are men of no mark 
 or likelihood. 
 
74 The Fifth Discourse 
 
 I inculcate as frequently as I can your forming 
 yourselves upon great principles and great models. 
 Your time will be much mis-spent in every other 
 pursuit. Small excellences should be viewed, not 
 studied ; they ought to be viewed, because nothing 
 ought to escape a painter's observation : but for no 
 other reason. 
 
 There is another caution which I wish to give you. 
 Be as select in those whom you endeavour to please, 
 as in those whom you endeavour to imitate. With- 
 out the love of fame you can never do anything 
 excellent ; but by an excessive and undistinguishing 
 thirst after it, you will come to have vulgar views ; 
 you will degrade your style ; and your taste will be 
 entirely corrupted. It is certain that the lowest 
 style will be the most popular, as it falls within the 
 compass of ignorance itself ; and the vulgar will 
 always be pleased with what is natural, in the con- 
 fined and misunderstood sense of the word. 
 
 One would wish that such depravation of taste 
 should be counteracted with that manly pride which 
 actuated Euripides when he said to the Athenians 
 who criticised his works, I do not compose my 
 works in order to be corrected by you, but to in- 
 struct you." It is true, to have a right to speak 
 thus, a man must be a Euripides. However, thus 
 much may be allowed, that when an artist is sure 
 that he is upon firm ground, supported by the 
 authority and practice of his predecessors of the 
 greatest reputation, he may then assume the bold- 
 ness and intrepidity of genius ; at any rate he must 
 not be tempted out of the right path by any allure- 
 ment of popularity, which always accompanies the 
 lower styles of painting. 
 
 I mention this, because our exhibitions, while they 
 produce such admirable effects by nourishing emu- 
 lation, and calling out genius, have also a mis- 
 chievous tendency, by seducing the painter to an 
 
The Sixth Discourse 75 
 
 ambition of pleasing- indiscriminately the mixed 
 multitude of people who resort to them. 
 
 DISCOURSE VI 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes^ December lo, 1774. 
 
 Imitation. — Genius begins where Rules end. — Invention : — 
 Acquired by being conversant with the Inventions of 
 Others. — Tlie True Method of Imitating. — Borrowing, 
 how far allowable. — Something to be gathered from every 
 School. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 When I have taken the liberty of addressing you 
 on the course and order of your studies, I never 
 proposed to enter into a minute detail of the art. 
 This I have always left to the several professors, 
 who pursue the end of our institution w^ith the 
 highest honour to themselves, and with the greatest 
 advantage to the students. 
 
 My purpose in the discourses I have held in the 
 Academy has been to lay down certain general posi- 
 tions, which seem to me proper for the formation of 
 a sound taste : principles necessary to guard the 
 pupils against those errors, into which the sanguine 
 temper common to their time of life has a tendency 
 to lead them ; and which have rendered abortive the 
 hopes of so many successions of promising young 
 men in all parts of Europe. I wished also, to inter- 
 cept and suppress those prejudices which par- 
 ticularly prevail when the mechanism of painting is 
 come to its perfection ; and which, when they do 
 prevail, are certain utterly to destroy the higher and 
 more valuable parts of this literate and liberal pro- 
 fession. 
 
76 The Sixth Discourse 
 
 These two have been my principal purposes ; they 
 are still as much my concern as ever ; and if I repeat 
 my own notions on the subject, you who know how 
 fast mistake and prejudice, when neglected, gain 
 ground upon truth and reason, will easily excuse 
 me. I only attempt to set the same thing in the 
 greatest variety of lights. 
 
 The subject of this discourse will be Imitation, as 
 far as a painter is concerned in it. By imitation, I 
 do not mean imitation in its largest sense, but simply 
 the following of other masters, and the advantage 
 to be drawn from the study of their works. 
 
 Those who have undertaken to write on our art, 
 and have represented it as a kind of inspiration^ as 
 a gijt bestowed upon peculiar favourites at their 
 birth, seem to insure a much more favourable dis- 
 position from their readers, and have a much more 
 captivating and liberal air, than he who attempts to 
 examine, coldly, whether there are any means by 
 which this art may be acquired ; how the mind may 
 be strengthened and expanded, and what guides will 
 show the way to eminence. 
 
 It is very natural for those who are unacquainted 
 with the cause of anything extraordinary, to be 
 astonished at the effect^ and to consider it as a kind 
 of magic. They, who have never observed the 
 gradation by which art is acquired ; who see only 
 what is the full result of long labour and application 
 of an infinite number and infinite variety of acts, 
 are apt to conclude from their entire inability to do 
 the same at once, that it is not only inaccessible to 
 themselves, but can be done by those only who have 
 some gift of the nature of inspiration bestowed upon 
 them. 
 
 The travellers into the East tell us, that when the 
 ignorant inhabitants of those countries are asked 
 concerning the ruins of stately edifices yet remain- 
 ing amongst them, the melancholy monuments of 
 
The Sixth Discourse 77 
 
 their former grandeur and long-lost science, they 
 always answer, that they were built by magicians. 
 The untaught mind finds a vast gulf between its own 
 powers, and those works of complicated art, which 
 it is utterly unable to fathom ; and it supposes that 
 such a void can be passed only by supernatural 
 powers. 
 
 And, as for artists themselves, it is by no means 
 their int-erest to undeceive such judges, however 
 conscious they may be of the very natural means by 
 which their extraordinary powers were acquired ; 
 though our art, being intrinsically imitative, rejects 
 this idea of inspiraton, more perhaps than any other. 
 
 It is to avoid this plain confession of truth, as it 
 should seem, that this imitation of masters, indeed 
 almost all imitation, which implies a more regular 
 and progressive method of attaining the ends of 
 painting, has ever been particularly inveighed 
 against with great keenness, both by ancient and 
 modern writers. 
 
 To derive all from native power, to owe nothing 
 to another, is the praise which men, who do not 
 much think on what they are saying, bestow some- 
 times upon others, and sometimes on themselves ; 
 and their imaginary dignity is naturally heightened 
 by a supercilious censure of the low, the barren, the 
 grovelling, the servile imitator. It would be no 
 wonder if a student, frightened by these terrific and 
 disgraceful epithets, with which the poor imitators 
 are so often loaded, should let fall his pencil in mere 
 despair (conscious as he must be, how much he has 
 been indebted to the labours of others, how little, 
 how very little of his art was born with him) ; and 
 consider it as hopeless, to set about acquiring by 
 the imitation of any human master, what he is 
 taught to suppose is matter of inspiration from 
 heaven. 
 
 Some allowance must be made for what is said in 
 
78 The Sixth Discourse 
 
 the g-aiety of rhetoric. We cannot suppose that 
 anyone can really mean to exclude all imitation of 
 others. A position so wild would scarce deserve a 
 serious answer ; for it is apparent, if we were forbid 
 to make use of the advantages which our prede- 
 cessors afford us, the art would be always to begin, 
 and consequently remain always in its infant state ; 
 and it is a common observation, that no art was 
 ever invented and carried to perfection at the same 
 time. 
 
 But to bring us entirely to reason and sobriety, 
 let it be observed, that a painter must not only be 
 of necessity an imitator of the works of nature, 
 which alone is sufficient to dispel this phantom of in- 
 spiration, but he must be as necessarily an imitator 
 of the works of other painters : this appears more 
 humiliating, but is equally true ; and no man can be 
 an artist, whatever he may suppose, upon any other 
 terms. 
 
 However, those who appear more moderate and 
 reasonable allow that our study is to begin by 
 imitation ; but maintain that we should no longer 
 use the thoughts of our predecessors, when we are 
 become able to think for ourselves. They hold that 
 imitation is as hurtful to the more advanced student, 
 as it was advantageous to the beginner. 
 
 For my own part, I confess, I am not only very 
 much disposed to maintain the absolute necessity of 
 imitation in the first stages of the art; but am of 
 opinion, that the study of other masters, which I 
 here call imitation, may be extended throughout our 
 whole lives, without any danger of the incon- 
 veniences with which it is charged, of enfeebling 
 the mind, or preventing us from giving that original 
 air which every work undoubtedly ought always to 
 have. 
 
 I am on the contrary persuaded, that by imitation 
 only, variety, and even originality of invention, is 
 
The Sixth Discourse 79 
 
 produced. I will go further; even genius, at least 
 what generally is so called, is the child of imitation. 
 But as this appears to be contrary to the general 
 opinion, I must explain my position before I en- 
 force it. 
 
 Genius is supposed to be a power of producing 
 excellences, which are out of the reach of the rules 
 of art; a power which no precepts can teach, and 
 which no industry can acquire. 
 
 This opinion of the impossibility of acquiring 
 those beauties, which stamp the work with the char- 
 acter of genius, supposes that it is something more 
 fixed than in reality it is ; and that we always do, and 
 ever did agree in opinion, with respect to what 
 should be considered as the characteristic of genius. 
 But the truth is, that the degree of excellence which 
 proclaims genius is different, in different times and 
 different places ; and what shows it to be so is, that 
 mankind have often changed their opinion upon 
 this matter. 
 
 When the arts were in their infancy, the power of 
 merely drawing the likeness of any object was con- 
 sidered as one of its greatest efforts. The common 
 people, ignorant of the principles of art, talk the 
 same language even to this day. But when it was 
 found that every man could be taught to do this, 
 and a great deal more, merely by the observance of 
 certain precepts ; the name of genius then shifted its 
 application, and was given only to him who added the 
 peculiar character of the object he represented ; to 
 him who had invention, expression, grace, or 
 dignity; in short, those qualities, or excellences, 
 the power of producing which could not then be 
 taught by any known and promulgated rules. 
 
 We are very sure that the beauty of form, the 
 expression of the passions, the art of composition, 
 even the power of giving a general air of grandeur 
 to a work, is at present very much under the 
 
8o The Sixth Discourse 
 
 dominion of rules. These excellences were, here- 
 tofore, considered merely as the effects of genius; 
 and justly, if genius is not taken for inspiration, 
 but as the effect of close observation and experi- 
 ence. 
 
 He who first made any of these observations, and 
 digested them, so as to form an invariable principle 
 for himself to work by, had that merit, but probably 
 no one went very far at once; and generally, the 
 first who gave the hint, did not know how to pursue 
 it steadily and methodically ; at least not in the be- 
 ginning. He himself worked on it, and improved 
 it ; others worked more, and improved further ; 
 until the secret was discovered, and the practice 
 made as general, as refined practice can be made. 
 How many more principles may be fixed and ascer- 
 tained, we cannot tell ; but as criticism is likely to 
 .go hand in hand with the art which is its subject, 
 we may venture to say, that as that art shall 
 advance, it powers will be still more and more fixed 
 by rules. 
 
 But by whatever strides criticism may gain 
 ground, we need be under no apprehension, that 
 invention will ever be annihilated, or subdued; or 
 intellectual energy be brought entirely within the 
 restraint of written law. Genius will still have room 
 enough to expatiate, and keep always at the same 
 distance from narrow comprehension and mechani- 
 cal performance. 
 
 What we now call genius begins, not where 
 rules, abstractedly taken, end ; but where known 
 vulgar and trite rules have no longer any place. It 
 must of necessity be, that even works of genius, 
 like every other effect, as they must have their 
 cause, must likewise have their rules ; it cannot be by 
 chance, that excellences are produced with any 
 <:onstancy or any certainty, for this is not the nature 
 of chance ; but the rules by which men of extraordin- 
 
The Sixth Discourse 8i 
 
 ary parts, and such as are called men of g-enius, 
 work, are either such as they discover by their own 
 peculiar observations, or of such a nice texture as 
 not easily to admit beino- expressed in words ; espe- 
 cially as artists are not very frequently skilful in 
 that mode of communicating- ideas. Unsubstantial, 
 however, as these rules may seem, and difficult as it 
 may be to convey them in writing, they are still seen 
 and felt in the mind of the artist ; and he works from 
 them with as much certainty, as if they were em- 
 bodied, as I may say, upon paper. It is true, these 
 refined principles cannot be always made palpable, 
 like the more gross rules of art ; yet it does not fol- 
 low, but that the mind may be put in such a train, 
 that it shall perceive, by a kind of scientific sense, 
 that propriety, which words, particularly words of 
 unpractised writers, such as we are, can but very 
 feebly suggest. 
 
 Invention is one of the great marks of genius ; 
 but if we consult experience, we shall find, that it is 
 by being conversant with the inventions of others, 
 that we learn to invent ; as by reading the thoughts 
 of others we learn to think. 
 
 Whoever has so far formed his taste, as to be 
 able to relish and feel the beauties of the great 
 masters, has gone a great way in his study; for, 
 merely from a consciousness of this relish of the 
 right, the mind swells with an inward pride, and is 
 almost as powerfully affected, as if it had itself pro- 
 duced what it admires. Our hearts, frequently 
 warmed in this manner by the contact of those 
 whom we wish to resemble, will undoubtedly catch 
 something of their way of thinking- ; and we shall 
 receive in our own bosoms some radiation at least of 
 their fire and splendour. That disposition, which 
 is so strong in children, still continues with us, of 
 catching involuntarily the general air and manner 
 of those with whom we are most conversant : with 
 
 G 
 
82 The Sixth Discourse 
 
 this difference only, that a young mind is naturally 
 pliable and imitative ; but in a more advanced state 
 it grows rigid, and must be warmed and softened, 
 before it will receive a deep impression. 
 
 From these considerations, which a little of your 
 own reflection will carry a great way further, it 
 appears, of what great consequence it is, that our 
 minds should be habituated to the contemplation 
 of excellence ; and that, far from being contented to 
 make such habits the discipline of our youth only, 
 we should, to the last moment of our lives, continue 
 a settled intercourse with all the true examples of 
 grandeur. Their inventions are not only the food 
 of our infancy, but the substance which supplies 
 the fullest maturity of our vigour. 
 
 The mind is but a barren soil ; a soil which is soon 
 exhausted, and will produce no crop, or only one, 
 unless it be continually fertilised and enriched with 
 foreign matter. 
 
 When we have had continually before us the 
 great works of art to impregnate our minds with 
 kindred ideas, we are then, and not till then, fit to 
 produce something of the same species. We behold 
 all about us with the eyes of those penetrating 
 observers whose works we contemplate ; and our 
 minds, accustomed to think the thoughts of the 
 noblest and brightest intellects, are prepared for 
 the discovery and selection of all that is great and 
 noble in nature. The greatest natural genius can- 
 not subsist on its own stock : he who resolves never 
 to ransack any mind but his own, will be soon re- 
 duced, from mere barrenness, to the poorest of all 
 imitations ; he will be obliged to imitate himself, and 
 to repeat what he has before often repeated. When 
 we know the subject designed by such men, it will 
 never be difficult to guess what kind of work is to 
 be produced. 
 
 It is vain for painters or poets to endeavour tO' 
 
The Sixth Discourse 83 
 
 invent without materials on which the mind may 
 work, and from which invention must originate. 
 Nothing can come of nothing. 
 
 Homer is supposed to be possessed of all the 
 learning of his time : and we are certain that Michael 
 Angelo and Raffaelle were equally possessed of all 
 the knowledge in the art which had been discovered 
 in the works of their predecessors. 
 
 A mind enriched by an assemblage of all the 
 treasures of ancient and modern art will be more 
 elevated and fruitful in resources, in proportion to 
 the number of ideas which have been carefully col- 
 lected and thoroughly digested. There can be no 
 doubt but that he who has the most materials has 
 the greatest means of invention ; and if he has not 
 the power of using them, it must proceed from a 
 feebleness of intellect, or from the confused manner 
 in which those collections have been laid up in his 
 mind. 
 
 The addition of other men's judgment is so far 
 from weakening our own, as is the opinion of many, 
 that it will fashion and consolidate those ideas of 
 excellence which lay in embryo, feeble, ill-shaped, 
 and confused, but which are finished and put in 
 order by the authority and practice of those, whose 
 works may be said to have been consecrated by 
 having stood the test of ages. 
 
 The mind, or genius, has been compared to a 
 spark of fire, which is smothered by a heap of fuel, 
 and prevented from blazing into a flame. This 
 simile, which is made use of by the younger Pliny, 
 may be easily mistaken for argument or proof. But 
 there is no danger of the mind's being overbur- 
 dened with knowledge, or the genius extinguished 
 by any addition of images ; on the contrary, these 
 acquisitions may as well, perhaps better, be com- 
 pared, if comparisons signified anything in reason- 
 ing, to the supply of living embers, which will 
 
 G 2 
 
84 The Sixth Discourse 
 
 contribute to strengthen the spark, that without 
 the association of more fuel would have died away. 
 The truth is, he whose feebleness is such, as to make 
 other men's thoughts an incumbrance to him, can 
 have no very great strength of mind or genius of 
 his own to be destroyed ; so that not much harm will 
 be done at worst. 
 
 We may oppose to Pliny the greater authority 
 of Cicero, who is continually enforcing the necessity 
 of this method of study. In his dialogue on 
 Oratory, he makes Crassus say, that one of the first 
 and most important precepts is, to choose a proper 
 model for our imitation. Hoc sit primum in 
 prceceptis meis, ut demonstremiis quern imitemur. 
 
 When I speak of the habitual imitation and con- 
 tinued study of masters, it is not to be understood, 
 that I advise any endeavour to copy the exact 
 peculiar colour and complexion of another man's 
 mind ; the success of such an attempt must always 
 be like his, who imitates exactly the air, manner, 
 and gestures, of him whom he admires. His model 
 may be excellent, but the copy will be ridiculous ; 
 this ridicule does not arise from his having imitated, 
 but from his not having chosen the right mode of 
 imitation. 
 
 It is necessary and warrantable pride to disdain 
 to walk servilely behind any individual, however 
 elevated his rank. The true and liberal ground of 
 imitation is an open field ; where, though he who 
 precedes has had the advantage of starting before 
 you, you may always propose to overtake him : it is 
 enough, however, to pursue his course ; you need not 
 tread in his footsteps ; and you certainly have a right 
 to outstrip him if you can. 
 
 Nor whilst I recommend studying the art from 
 artists, can I be supposed to mean, that nature is to 
 be neglected : I take this study in aid, and not in 
 exclusion, of the other. Nature is, and must be the 
 
The Sixth Discourse 85 
 
 fountain which alone is inexhaustible; and from 
 which all excellences must orig-inally flow. 
 
 The great use of studying- our predecessors is, to 
 open the mind, to shorten our labour, and to give us 
 the result of the selection made by those great minds 
 of what is g-rand or beautiful in nature : her rich 
 stores are all spread out before us ; but it is an art, 
 and no easy art, to know how or what to choose, 
 and how to attain and secure the object of our choice. 
 Thus the highest beauty of form must be taken from 
 nature ; but it is an art of long deduction, and great 
 experience, to know how to find it. We must not 
 content ourselves with merely admiring and relish- 
 ing ; we must enter into the principles on which the 
 work is wrought : these do not swim on the super- 
 ficies, and consequently are not open to superficial 
 observers. 
 
 Art in its perfection is not ostentatious ; it lies 
 hid, and works its effect, itself unseen. It is the 
 proper study and labour of an artist to uncover and 
 find out the latent cause of conspicuous beauties, 
 and from thence form principles of his own conduct : 
 such an examination is a continual exertion of the 
 mind ; as great, perhaps, as that of the artist whose 
 works he is thus studying. 
 
 The sagacious imitator does not content himself 
 with merely remarking what distinguishes the differ- 
 ent manner or genius of each master ; he enters into 
 the contrivance in the composition how the masses 
 of lights are disposed, the means by which the effect 
 is produced, how artfully some parts are lost in the 
 ground, others boldly relieved, and how all these are 
 mutually altered and interchanged according to the 
 reason and scheme of the work. He admires not 
 the harmony of colouring alone, but examines by 
 what artifice one colour is a foil to its neighbour. 
 He looks close into the tints, examines of what 
 colours they are composed, till he has formed clear 
 
86 The Sixth Discourse 
 
 and distinct ideas, and has learned to see in what 
 harmony and good colouring- consists. What is 
 learned in this manner from the works of others, 
 becomes really our own, sinks deep, and is never 
 forgotten ; nay, it is by seizing on this clue that we 
 proceed forward, and get further and further in en- 
 larging the principles and improving the practice 
 of our art. 
 
 There can be no doubt, but the art is better learnt 
 from the works themselves, than from the precepts 
 which are formed upon those works ; but if it is 
 difficult to choose proper models for imitation, it 
 requires no less circumspection to separate and dis- 
 tinguish what in those models we ought to imitate. 
 
 I cannot avoid mentioning here, though it is not 
 my intention at present to enter into the art and 
 method of study, an error which students are too 
 apt to fall into. He that is forming himself, must 
 look with great caution and wariness on those 
 peculiarities, or prominent parts, which at first force 
 themselves upon view; and are the marks, or what 
 is commonly called the manner, by which that in- 
 dividual artist is distinguished. 
 
 Peculiar marks, I hold to be, generally, if not 
 always, defects ; however difficult it may be wholly 
 to escape them. 
 
 Peculiarities in the works of art are like those in 
 the human figure : it is by them that we are cognis- 
 able and distinguished one from another, but they 
 are always so many blemishes ; which, however, both 
 in real life and in painting, cease to appear defor- 
 mities, to those who have them continually before 
 their eyes. In the works of art, even the most 
 enlightened mind, when warmed by beauties of the 
 highest kind, will by degrees find a repugnance 
 within him to acknowledge any defects ; nay, his 
 enthusiasm will carry him so far, as to transform 
 them into beauties, and objects of imitation. 
 
The Sixth Discourse 87 
 
 It must be acknowledged, that a peculiarity of 
 style, either from its novelty, or by seeming to pro- 
 ceed from a peculiar turn of mind, often escapes 
 blame; on the contrary, it is sometimes striking and 
 pleasing : but this it is a vain labour to endeavour 
 to imitate; because novelty and peculiarity being 
 its only merit, when it ceases to be new, it ceases 
 to have value. 
 
 A manner therefore being a defect, and every 
 painter, however excellent, having a manner, it 
 seems to follow, that all kinds of faults, as well as 
 beauties, may be learned under the sanction of the 
 greatest authorities. Even the great name of 
 Michael Angelo may be used, to keep in counten- 
 ance a deficienc> or rather neglect of colouring, and 
 every other ornamental part of the art. If the 
 young student is dry and hard, Poussin is the same. 
 If his work has a careless and unfinished air, he has 
 most of the Venetian school to support him. If he 
 makes no selection of objects, but takes individual 
 nature just as he finds it, he is like Rembrandt. If 
 he is incorrect in the proportions of his figures, 
 Correggio was likewise incorrect. If his colours 
 are not blended and united, Rubens was equally 
 crude. In short, there is no defect that may not 
 be excused, if it is a sufficient excuse that it can be 
 imputed to considerable artists ; but it must be re- 
 membered, that it was not by these defects they 
 acquired their reputation; they have a right to our 
 pardon, but not to our admiration. 
 
 However, to imitate peculiarities or mistake 
 defects for beauties, that man will be most liable, 
 who confines his imitation to one favourite master ; 
 and even though he chooses the best, and is capable 
 of distinguishing the real excellences of his model, 
 it is not by such narrow practice, that a genius or 
 mastery in the art is acquired. A man is as little 
 likely to form a true idea of the perfection of the 
 
88 The Sixth Discourse 
 
 art, by studying a single artist, as he would be to 
 produce a perfectly beautiful figure, by an exact 
 imitation ot any individual living model. And as 
 the painter, by bringing together in one piece, those 
 beauties which are dispersed among a great variety 
 of individuals, produces a figure more beautiful than 
 can be found in nature, so that artist who can unite 
 in himself the excellences of the various great 
 painters, will approach nearer to perfection than 
 any one of his masters. He, who confines himself to 
 the imitation of an individual, as he never proposes 
 to surpass, so he is not likely to equal, the object of 
 his imitation. He professes only to follow ; and he 
 that follows must necessarily be behind. 
 
 We should imitate the conduct of the great artists 
 in the course of their studies, as well as the works 
 which they produced, when they were perfectly 
 formed. Raffaelle began by imitating implicitly 
 the manner of Pietro Perugino, under whom he 
 studied ; hence his first works are scarce to be dis- 
 tinguished from his master's; but soon forming 
 higher and more extensive views, he imitated the 
 grand outline of Michael Angelo ; he learned the 
 manner of using colours from the works of Leonardo 
 da Vinci, and Fratre Bartolomeo : to all this he 
 added the contemplation of all the remains of an- 
 tiquity that were within his reach ; and employed 
 others to draw for him what was In Greece and 
 distant places. And it is from his having taken so 
 many models, that he became himself a model for all 
 succeeding painters; always imitating, and always 
 original. 
 
 If your ambition, therefore, be to equal Raffaelle, 
 you must do as Raffaelle did; take many models, 
 and not even him for your guide alone, to the ex- 
 clusion of others.^ And yet the number is infinite 
 
 * Sed non qui maxime imitandus, etiam solus imitandus 
 
 est. QUINTILIAN. 
 
The Sixth Discourse 89 
 
 of those who seem, if one may judge by their style, 
 to have seen no other works but those of their 
 master, or of some favourite, whose manner is their 
 first wish, and their last. 
 
 I will mention a few that occur to me of this 
 narrow, confined, illiberal, unscientific, and servile 
 kind of imitators. Guido was thus meanly copied 
 by Elizabetta, Sirani, and Simone Cantarina ; 
 Poussin, by Verdier and Cheron ; Parmeg^iano, by 
 Jeronimo Mazzuoli. Paolo Veronese and lacomo 
 Bassan had for their imitators their brothers and 
 sons. Pietro da Cortona was followed by Giro 
 Ferri and Romanelli ; Rubens, by Jacques Jordaens 
 and Diepenbek? ; Guercino, by his own family, the 
 Gennari. Carlo Maratti was imitated by Giuseppe 
 Chiari and Pietro da Pietri ; and Rembrandt, by 
 Bramer, Eeckhout, and Flink. All these, to whom 
 may be added a much longer list of painters, whose 
 works among the ignorant pass for those of their 
 masters, ai^e justly to be censured for barrenness 
 and servility. 
 
 To oppose to this list a few that have adopted a 
 more liberal style of imitation ; — Pellegrino Tibaldi, 
 Rosso, and Primaticcio, did not coldly imitate, but 
 caught something of the fire that animates the 
 works of Michael Angelo. The Caraccis formed 
 their style from Pellegrino Tibaldi, Correggio, and 
 the Venetian school. Domenichino, Guido, Lan- 
 franco, Albano, Guercino, Cavidone, Schidone, 
 Tiarini, though it is sufficiently apparent that they 
 came from the school of the Caraccis, have yet the 
 appearance of men who extended their views beyond 
 the model that lay before them, and have shown that 
 they had opinions of their own, and thought for 
 themselves, after they had made themselves masters 
 of the general principles of their schools. 
 
 Le Sueur's first manner resembles very much that 
 of his master Vouet : but as he soon excelled him. 
 
go The Sixth Discourse 
 
 so he differed from him in every part of the art. 
 Carlo Maratti succeeded better than those I have 
 first named, and I think owes his superiority to the 
 extension of his views ; beside his master Andrea 
 Sacchi, he imitated Raffaelle, Guido, and the 
 Caraccis. It is true, there is nothing- very cap- 
 tivating in Carlo Maratti ; but this proceeded from 
 a want which cannot be completely supplied ; that is, 
 want of streng-th of parts. In this certainly men are 
 not equal ; and a man can bring- home wares only in 
 proportion to the capital with which he g-oes to 
 market. Carlo, by dilig-ence, made the most of 
 what he had ; but there was undoubtedly a heaviness 
 about him, which extended itself, uniformly, to his 
 invention, expression, his drawing-, colouring-, and 
 the g-eneral effect of his pictures. The truth is, he 
 never equalled any of his patterns in any one thing-, 
 and he added little of his ow^n. 
 
 But we must not rest contented even in this general 
 study of the moderns ; we must trace back the art 
 to its fountain-head ; to that source from whence 
 they drew their principal excellences, the monu- 
 ments of pure antiquity. All the inventions and 
 thoughts of the ancients, whether conveyed to us 
 in statues, bas-reliefs, intaglios, cameos, or coins, 
 are to be sought after and carefully studied ; the 
 genius that hovers over these venerable relics, may 
 be called the father of modern art. 
 
 From the remains of the works of the ancients 
 the modern arts were revived, and it is by their 
 means that they must be restored a second time. 
 However it may mortify our vanity, we must be 
 forced to allow them our masters ; and we may 
 venture to prophesy, that when they shall cease to 
 be studied, arts will no longer flourish, and we 
 shall again relapse into barbarism. 
 
 The fire of the artist's own genius operating 
 upon these materials which have been thus dili- 
 
The Sixth Discourse 91 
 
 gently collected, will enable him to make new com- 
 binations, perhaps, superior to what had ever be- 
 fore been in the possession of the art : as in the 
 mixture of the variety of metals, which are said to 
 have been melted and run together at the burning 
 of Corinth, a new and till then unknown metal was 
 produced, equal in value to any of those that had 
 contributed to its composition. And though a 
 curious refiner should come with his crucibles, 
 analyse and separate its various component parts, 
 yet Corinthian brass would still hold its rank 
 amongst the most beautiful and valuable of metals. 
 
 We have hitherto considered the advantages of 
 imitation as it tends to form the taste, and as a 
 practice by which a spark of that genius may be 
 caught, which illumines those noble works that 
 ought always to be present to our thoughts. 
 
 We come now to speak of another kind of imita- 
 tion ; the borrowing a particular thought, an action, 
 attitude, or figure, and transplanting it into your 
 own work ; this will either come under the charge 
 of plagiarism, or be warrantable, and deserve com- 
 mendation, according to the address with which it 
 is performed. There is some difference likewise, 
 whether it is upon the ancients or moderns that 
 these depredations are made. It is generally 
 allowed, that no man need be ashamed of copying 
 the ancients : their works are considered as a maga- 
 zine of common property, always open to the public, 
 whence every man has a right to take what 
 materials he pleases ; and if he has the art of using 
 them, they are supposed to become to all intents 
 and purposes his own property. The collection of 
 the thoughts of the ancients, which Raffaelle made 
 with so much trouble, is a proof of his opinion on this 
 subject. Such collections may be made with much 
 more ease, by means of an art scarce known in his 
 time; I mean that of engraving; by which, at an 
 
92 The Sixth Discourse 
 
 easy rate, every man may now avail himself of the 
 inventions of antiquity. 
 
 It must be acknowledged that the works of the' 
 moderns are more the property of their authors. 
 He, who borrows an idea from an ancient, or even 
 from a modern artist not his contemporary, and so 
 accommodates it to his own work, that it makes a 
 part of it, with no seam or joining appearing, can 
 hardly be charged with plagiarism : poets practise 
 this kind of borrowing, without reserve. But an 
 artist should not be contented with this only ; he 
 should enter into a competition with his original, 
 and endeavour to improve what he is appropriating 
 to his own work. Such imitation is so far from 
 having anything in it of the servility of plagiarism, 
 that it is a perpetual exercise of the mind, a con- 
 tinual invention. Borrowing or stealing with such 
 art and caution will have a right to the same 
 lenity as was used by the Lacedemonians ; who 
 did not punish theft, but the want of artifice to 
 conceal it. 
 
 In order to encourage you to imitation, to the 
 utmost extent, let me add, that very finished artists 
 in the inferior branches of the art will contribute to 
 furnish the mind and give hints, of which a skilful 
 painter, who is sensible of what he wants, and is in 
 no danger of being infected by the contact of vicious 
 models, will know how to avail himself. He will 
 pick up from dung-hills what by a nice chemistry, 
 passing through his own mind, shall be converted 
 into pure gold ; and under the rudeness of Gothic 
 essays, he will find original, rational, and even sub- 
 lime inventions. 
 
 The works of Albert Diirer, Lucas Van Leyden, 
 the numerous inventions of Tobias Stimmer and 
 Jost Ammon, afford a rich mass of genuine 
 materials, which wrought up and polished to ele- 
 gance, will add copiousness to what, perhaps, with- 
 
The Sixth Discourse 93 
 
 out such aid, could have aspired only to justness 
 and propriety. 
 
 In the luxuriant style of Paul Veronese, in the 
 capricious compositions of Tintoret, he will find 
 something- that will assist his invention, and give 
 points, from which his own imagination shall rise 
 and take flight, when the subject which he treats 
 will with propriety admit of splendid effects. 
 
 In every school, whether Venetian, French, or 
 Dutch, he will find, either ingenious compositions, 
 extraordinary effects, some peculiar expressions, or 
 some mechanical excellence, well worthy of his at- 
 tention, and, in some measure, of his imitation. 
 Even in the lower class of the French painters great 
 beauties are often found, united with great defects. 
 Though Coypel wanted a simplicity of taste, and 
 mistook a presumptuous and assuming air for what 
 is grand and majestic ; yet he frequently has good 
 sense and judgment in his manner of telling his 
 stories, great skill in his compositions, and is not 
 without a considerable power of expressing the 
 passions. The modern affectation of grace in his 
 works, as well as in those of Bosch and Watteau, 
 may be said to be separated, by a very thin par- 
 tition, from the more simple and pure grace of 
 Correggio and Parmegiano. 
 
 Among the Dutch painters, the correct, firm, and 
 determined pencil, which was employed by Bam- 
 boccio and Jean Miel, on vulgar and mean subjects, 
 might, without any change, be employed on the 
 highest ; to which, indeed, it seems more properly to 
 belong. The greatest style, if that style is confined 
 to small figures, such as Poussin generally painted, 
 would receive an additional grace by the elegance 
 and precision of pencil so admirable in the works of 
 Teniers ; and though the school to which he be- 
 longed more particularly excelled in the mechanism 
 of painting ; yet it produced many, who have shown 
 
94 The Sixth Discourse 
 
 great abilities in expressing what must be ranked 
 above mechanical excellences. In the works of 
 Frans Hals, the portrait-painter may observe the 
 composition of a face, the features well put together, 
 as the painters express it; from whence proceeds 
 that strong-marked character of individual nature, 
 which is so remarkable in his portraits, and is not 
 found in an equal degree in any other painter. If 
 he had joined to this most difficult part of the art, 
 a patience in finishing what he had so correctly 
 planned, he might justly have claimed the place 
 which Vandyck, all things considered, so justly 
 holds as the first of portrait-painters. 
 
 Others of the same school have shown great 
 power in expressing the character and passions of 
 those vulgar people, which were the subjects of their 
 study and attention. Among those Jan Steen seems 
 to be one of the most diligent and accurate observers 
 of what passed in those scenes which he frequented, 
 and which were to him an academy. I can easily 
 imagine, that if this extraordinary man had had the 
 good fortune to have been born in Italy instead of 
 Holland, had he lived in Rome instead of Leyden, 
 and been blessed with Michael Angelo and Raffaelle 
 for his masters instead of Brouwer and Van Goyen ; 
 the same sagacity and penetration which distin- 
 guished so accurately the different characters and 
 expression in his vulgar figures, would, when 
 exerted in the selection and imitation of what was 
 great and elevated in nature, have been equally 
 successful ; and he now would have ranged with the 
 great pillars and supporters of our art. 
 
 Men who, although thus bound down by the almost 
 invincible powers of early habits, have still exerted 
 extraordinary abilities within their narrow and con- 
 fined circle ; and have, from the natural vigour of 
 their mind, given a very interesting expression and 
 great force and energy to their works ; though they 
 
The Sixth Discourse 95 
 
 cannot be recommended to be exactly imitated, may 
 yet invite an artist to endeavour to transfer, by a 
 kind of parody, their excellences to his own per- 
 formances. Whoever has acquired the power of 
 making this use of the Flemish, Venetian, and 
 French schools, is a real genius, and has sources of 
 knowledge open to him which were wanting to the 
 great artists who lived in the great age of painting. 
 
 To find excellences, however dispersed ; to discover 
 beauties, however concealed by the multitude of de- 
 fects with which they are surrounded, can be the work 
 only of him who, having a mind always alive to his 
 art, has extended his views to all ages and to all 
 schools ; and has acquired from that comprehensive 
 mass which he has thus gathered to himself, a well- 
 digested and perfect idea of his art, to which every- 
 thing is referred. Like a sovereign judge and 
 arbiter of art, he is possessed of that presiding 
 power which separates and attracts every excel- 
 lence from every school; selects both from what is 
 great, and what is little ; brings home knowledge 
 from the East and from the West ; making the uni- 
 verse tributary towards furnishing his mind and 
 enriching his works with originality and variety of 
 inventions. 
 
 Thus I have ventured to give my opinion of what 
 appears to me the true and only method by which an 
 artist makes himself master of his profession ; which 
 I hold ought to be one continued course of imitation, 
 that is not to cease but with his life. 
 
 Those, who either from their own engagements 
 and hurry of business, or from indolence, or from 
 conceit and vanity, have neglected looking out of 
 themselves, as far as my experience and observa- 
 tion reaches, have from that time, not only ceased 
 to advance, and improve in their performances, 
 but have gone backward. They may be com- 
 pared to men who have lived upon their principal. 
 
96 The Sixth Discourse 
 
 till they are reduced to beggary, and left without 
 resources. 
 
 I can recommend nothing better, therefore, than 
 that you endeavour to infuse into your works what 
 you learn from the contemplation of the works of 
 others. To recommend this has the appearance of 
 needless and superfluous advice ; but it has fallen 
 within my own knowledge, that artists, though they 
 were not wanting in a sincere love for their art, 
 though they had great pleasure in seeing good 
 pictures, and were well skilled to distinguish what 
 was excellent or defective in them, yet have gone 
 •on in their own manner, without any endeavour to 
 give a little of those beauties, which they admired in 
 others, to their own works. It is difficult to con- 
 ceive how the present Italian painters, who live in 
 the midst of the treasures of art, should be contented 
 with their own style. They proceed in their com- 
 mon-place inventions, and never think it worth while 
 to visit the works of those great artists with which 
 they are surrounded. 
 
 I remember, several years ago, to have conversed 
 at Rome with an artist of great fame throughout 
 Europe ; he was not without a considerable degree 
 of abilities, but those abilities were by no means 
 equal to his own opinion of them. From the reputa- 
 tion he had acquired, he too fondly concluded that 
 he stood in the same rank, when compared with his 
 predecessors, as he held with regard to his miserable 
 contemporary rivals. In conversation about some 
 particulars of the works of Raffaelle, he seemed to 
 have, or to affect to have, a very obscure memory 
 of them. He told me that he had not set his foot 
 in the Vatican for fifteen years together; that he 
 had been in treaty to copy a capital picture of 
 Raffaelle, but that the business had gone off ; how- 
 ever, if the agreement had held, his copy would 
 have greatly exceeded the original. The merit of 
 this artist, however great we may suppose it, I am 
 
The Sixth Discourse 97 
 
 sure would have been far greater, and his presump- 
 tion would have been far less, if he had visited the 
 Vatican, as in reason he ought to have done, at 
 least once every month of his life. 
 
 I address myself, gentlemen, to you who have 
 made some progress in the art, and are to be, for 
 the future, under the guidance of your own judg- 
 ment and discretion. I consider you as arrived at 
 that period, when you have a right to think for 
 yourselves, and to presume that every man is 
 fallible ; to study the masters with a suspicion, that 
 great men are not always exempt from great faults ; 
 to criticise, compare, and rank their works in your 
 own estimation, as they approach to, or recede from, 
 that standard of perfection which you have formed 
 in your own minds, but which those masters them- 
 selves, it must be remembered, have taught you to 
 make ; and which you will cease to make with cor- 
 rectness, when you cease to study them. It is their 
 excellences which have taught you their defects. 
 
 I would wish you to forget where you are, and 
 who it is that speaks to you ; I only direct you to 
 higher models and better advisers. We can teach 
 you here but very little ; you are henceforth to be 
 your own teachers. Do this justice, however, to the 
 English Academy ; to bear in mind, that in this place 
 you contracted no narrow habits, no false ideas, 
 nothing that could lead you to the imitation of any 
 living master, who may be the fashionable darling 
 of the day. As you have not been taught to flatter 
 us, do not learn to flatter yourselves. We have en- 
 deavoured to lead you to the admiration of nothing 
 but what is truly admirable. If you choose inferior 
 patterns, or if you make your own former works 
 your patterns for your lattery it is your own fault. 
 
 The purport of this discourse, and, indeed, of 
 most of my other discourses, is, to caution you 
 against that false opinion, but too prevalent among 
 
 H 
 
98 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 artists, of the imag-inary powers of native genius, 
 and its sufficiency in great works. This opinion, 
 according to the temper of mind it meets with, al- 
 most always produces, either a vain confidence, or a 
 sluggish despair, both equally fatal to all pro- 
 ficiency. 
 
 Study therefore the great works of the great 
 masters, for ever. Study as nearly as )'ou can, in 
 the order, in the manner, and on the prnciples, on 
 which they studied. Study nature attentively, but 
 always with those masters in your company; con- 
 sider them as models which you are to imitate, and 
 at the same time as rivals with whom you are to 
 contend. 
 
 DISCOURSE VII 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy^ on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1776. 
 
 The Reality of a Standard of Taste, as well as of Corporal 
 Beauty. Besides this Immutable Truth, there are Secon- 
 dary Truths, which are Variable; both requiring the 
 Attention of the Artist, in Proportion to their Stability or 
 their Influence. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 It has been my uniform endeavour, since I first 
 addressed you from this place, to impress you 
 strongly with one ruling idea. I wished you to be 
 persuaded, that success in your art depends almost 
 entirely on your own industry ; but the industry 
 which I principally recommended, is not the in- 
 dustry of the hands f but of the mind. 
 
 As our art is not a divine gift, so neither is it a 
 mechanical trade. Its foundations are laid in solid 
 science : and practice, though essential to perfec- 
 
The Seventh Discourse 99 
 
 tion, can never attain that to which it aims, unless 
 it works under the direction of principle. 
 
 Some writers upon art carry this point too far, 
 and suppose that such a body of universal and pro- 
 found learning is requisite, that the very enumera- 
 tion of its kinds is enough to frighten a beginner. 
 Vitruvius, after going through the many accom- 
 plishments of nature, and the many acquirements of 
 learning, necessary to an architect, proceeds with 
 great gravity to assert that he ought to be well 
 skilled in the civil law ; that he may not be cheated 
 in the title of the ground he builds on. But without 
 such exaggeration we may go so far as to assert that 
 a painter stands in need of more knowledge than is 
 to be picked off his palette, or collected by looking on 
 his model, whether it be in life or in picture. He 
 can never be a great artist, who is grossly illiterate. 
 
 Every man whose business is description ought 
 to be tolerably conversant with the poets, in some 
 language or other; that he may imbibe a poetical 
 spirit, and enlarge his stock of ideas. He ought to 
 acquire a habit of comparing and digesting his 
 notions. He ought not to be wholly unacquainted 
 with that part of philosophy which gives an insight 
 into human nature, and relates to the manners, 
 characters, passions, and affections. He ought to 
 know something concerning the mind, as well as 
 a great deal concerning the body of man. For this 
 purpose, it is not necessary that he should into 
 such a compass of reading, as must, by distracting 
 his attention, disqualify him for the practical part 
 of his profession, and make him sink the performer 
 in the critic. Reading, if it can be made the 
 favourite recreation of his leisure hours, will im- 
 prove and enlarge his mind, without retarding his 
 actual industry. What such partial and desultory 
 reading cannot afford, may be supplied by the con- 
 versation of learned and ingenious men, which is 
 
 H 2 
 
loo The Seventh Discourse 
 
 the best of all substitutes for those who have not 
 the means or opportunities of deep study. There 
 are many such men in this ag*e ; and they will be 
 pleased with communicating- their ideas to artists, 
 when they see them curious and docile, if they are 
 treated with that respect and deference which is so 
 justly their due. Into such society, young- artists, 
 if they make it the point of their ambition, will by 
 degrees be admitted. There, without formal teach- 
 ing, they will insensibly come to feel and reason 
 like those they live with, and find a rational and 
 systematic taste imperceptibly formed in their 
 minds, which they will know how to reduce to a 
 standard, by applying general truth to their own 
 purposes, better perhaps than those to whom they 
 owed the original sentiment. 
 
 Of these studies, and this conversation, the desire 
 and legitimate offspring is a power of distinguishing 
 right from wrong ; which power, applied to works of 
 art, is denominated Taste. Let me then, without 
 further introduction, enter upon an examination, 
 whether taste be so far beyond our reach, as to be 
 unattainable by care ; or be so very vague and cap- 
 ricious, that no care ought to be employed about it. 
 
 It has been the fate of arts to be enveloped in 
 mysterious and incomprehensible language, as if it 
 was thought necessary that even the terms should 
 correspond to the idea entertained of the instability 
 and uncertainty of the rules which they expressed. 
 
 To speak of genius and taste, as in any way con- 
 nected with reason or common sense, would be, in 
 the opinion of some towering talkers, to speak like 
 a man who possessed neither; who had never felt 
 that enthusiasm, or, to use their own inflated lan- 
 guage, was never warmed by that Promethean fire, 
 which animates the canvas and vivifies the marble. 
 
 If, in order to be intelligible, I appear to degrade 
 art by bringing her down from her visionary situa- 
 
The Seventh Discourse loi 
 
 tion in the clouds, it is only to give her a more solid 
 mansion upon the earth. It is necessary that at 
 some time or other we should see things as they 
 really are, and not impose on ourselves by that false 
 magnitude with which objects appear when viewed 
 indistinctly as through a mist. 
 
 We will allow a poet to express his meaning, 
 when his meaning is not well known to himself, 
 with a certain degree of obscurity, as it is one source 
 of the sublime. But when, in plain prose, we 
 gravely talk of courting the Muse in shady bowers ; 
 waiting the call and inspiration of genius, finding 
 out where he inhabits, and where he is to be invoked 
 with the greatest success ; of attending to times and 
 seasons when the imagination shoots with the 
 greatest vigour, whether at the summer solstice or 
 the vernal equinox ; sagaciously observing how 
 much the wild freedom and liberty of imagination is 
 cramped by attention to established rules ; and how 
 this same imagination begins to grow dim in ad- 
 vanced age, smothered and deadened by too much 
 judgment ; when we talk such language, or enter- 
 tain such sentiments as these, we generally rest 
 contented with mere words, or at best entertain 
 notions not only groundless but pernicious. 
 
 If all this means, what it is very possible was 
 originally intended only to be meant, that in order 
 to cultivate an art, a man secludes himself from the 
 commerce of the world, and retires into the country 
 at particular seasons ; or that at one time of the year 
 his body is in better health, and consequently his 
 mind fitter for the business of hard thinking than at 
 another time ; or that the mind may be fatigued and 
 grow confused by long and unremitted application ; 
 this I can understand. I can likewise believe, that 
 a man eminent when young for possessing poetical 
 imagination, may, from having taken another road, 
 so neglect its cultivation, as to show less of its 
 
I02 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 powers in his latter life. But I am persuaded, that 
 scarce a poet is to be found, from Homer down to 
 Dryden, who preserved a sound mind in a sound 
 body, and continued practising his profession to 
 the very last, whose latter works are not as replete 
 with the fire of imagination, as those which w^ere 
 produced in his more youthful days. 
 
 To understand literally these metaphors or ideas 
 expressed in poetical language seems to be equally 
 absurd as to conclude, that because painters some- 
 times represent poets writing from the dictates of 
 a little winged boy or genius, that this same genius 
 did really inform him in a whisper what he was to 
 write ; and that he is himself but a mere machine, 
 unconscious of the operations of his own mind. 
 
 Opinions generally received and floating in the 
 world, whether true or false, we naturally adopt 
 and make our own ; they may be considered as a 
 kind of inheritance to which we succeed and are 
 tenants for life, and which we leave to our posterity 
 very nearly in the condition in which we received it ; 
 it not being much in any one man's power either 
 to impair or improve it. The greatest part of these 
 opinions, like current coin in its circulation, we are 
 used to take without weighing or examining ; but 
 by this inevitable inattention many adulterated 
 pieces are received, which, when we seriously esti- 
 mate our wealth, we must throw away. So the col- 
 lector of popular opinions, when he embodies his 
 knowledge, and forms a system, must separate 
 those which are true from those which are only 
 plausible. But it becomes more peculiarly a duty 
 to the professors of art not to let any opinions re- 
 lating to that art pass unexamined. The caution 
 and circumspection required in such examination we 
 shall presently have an opportunity of explaining. 
 
 Genius and taste, in their common acceptation, 
 appear to be very nearly related ; the difference lies 
 
The Seventh Discourse 103 
 
 only in this, that genius has superadded to it a habit 
 or power of execution : or we may say, that taste, 
 when this power is added, changes its name, and is 
 called genius. They both, in the popular opinion, 
 pretend to an entire exemption from the restraint of 
 rules. It is supposed that their powers are in- 
 tuitive ; that under the name of genius great works 
 are produced, and under the name of taste an exact 
 judgment is given, without our knowing why, and 
 without our being under the least obligation to 
 reason, precept, or experience. 
 
 One can scarce state these opinions without ex- 
 posing their absurdity ; yet they are constantly in 
 the mouths of men, and particularly of artists. 
 They who have thought seriously on this subject 
 do not carry the point so far; yet I am persuaded, 
 that even among those few who may be called 
 thinkers, the prevalent opinion allows less than it 
 ought to the powers of reason ; and considers the 
 principles of taste, which give all their authority to 
 the rules of art, as more fluctuating, and as having 
 less solid foundations, than we shall find, upon 
 examination, they really have. 
 
 The common saying, that tastes are not to he dis- 
 puted, owes its influence, and its general reception, 
 to the same error which leads us to imagine this 
 faculty of too high an original to submit to the 
 authority of an earthly tribunal. It likewise cor- 
 responds with the notions of those who consider it 
 as a mere phantom of the imagination, so devoid of 
 substance as to elude all criticism. 
 
 We often appear to differ in sentiments from each 
 other, merely from the inaccuracy of terms, as we 
 are not obliged to speak always with critical exact- 
 ness. Something of this too may arise from want 
 of words in the language in which we speak, to 
 express the more nice discrimations which a deep 
 investigation discovers. A great deal, however, of 
 
I04 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 this difference vanishes when each opinion is toler- i 
 ably explained and understood, by constancy and 
 precision in the use of terms. 
 
 We apply the term Taste to that act of the mind 
 by which we like or dislike, whatever be the subject. 
 Our judg-ment upon an airy nothing, a fancy which 
 has no foundation, is called by the same name which 
 we give to our determination concerning those 
 truths which refer to the most general and most un- 
 alterable principles of human nature ; to the works 
 which are only to be produced by the greatest efforts 
 of the human understanding. However incon- 
 venient this may be, we are obliged to take words 
 as we find them ; all we can do is to distinguish the 
 things to which they are applied. 
 
 We may let pass those things which are at once 
 subjects of taste and sense, and which, having as 
 much certainty as the senses themselves, give no 
 occasion to inquiry or dispute. The natural appe- 
 tite or taste of the human mind is for Truth ; whether 
 that truth results from the real agreement or 
 equality of original ideas among themselves ; from 
 the agreement of the representation of any object 
 with the thing represented ; or from the correspond- 
 ence of the several parts of any arrangement with 
 each other. It is the very same taste which relishes 
 a demonstration in geometry, that is pleased with 
 the resemblance of a picture to an original, and 
 touched with the harmony of music. 
 
 All these have unalterable and fixed foundations 
 in nature, and are therefore equally investigated by 
 reason, and known by study; some with more, some 
 with less clearness, but all exactly in the same way, 
 A picture that is unlike is false. Disproportionate 
 ordonnance of parts is not right ; because it cannot 
 be true, until it ceases to be a contradiction to 
 assert, that the parts have no relation to the 
 whole. Colouring is true, when it is naturally 
 
The Seventh Discourse 105 
 
 adapted to the eye, from brightness, from softness, 
 from harmony, from resemblance ; because these 
 agree with their object, Nature, and therefore are 
 true; as true as mathematical demonstration; but 
 known to be true only to those who study these 
 things. 
 
 But besides real, there is also apparent truth, or 
 opinion, or prejudice. With regard to real truth, 
 when it is known, the taste which conforms to it is, 
 and must be, uniform. With regard to the second 
 sort of truth, which may be called truth upon 
 sufferance, or truth by courtesy, it is not fixed, but 
 variable. However, whilst these opinions and pre- 
 judices, on which it is founded, continue, they 
 operate as truth ; and the art, whose office it is to 
 please the mind, as well as instruct it, must direct 
 itself according to opinion, or it will not attain its 
 end. 
 
 In proportion as these prejudices are known to be 
 generally diffused, or long received, the taste which 
 conforms to them approaches nearer to certainty, 
 and to a sort of resemblance to real science, even 
 where opinions are found to be no better than pre- 
 judices. And since they deserve, on account of 
 their duration and extent, to be considered as really 
 true, they become capable of no small degree of 
 stability and determination, by their permanent and 
 uniform nature. 
 
 As these prejudices become more narrow, more 
 local, more transitory, this secondary taste becomes 
 more and more fantastical ; recedes from real 
 science; is less to be approved by reason, and less 
 followed in practice; though in no case perhaps 
 to be wholly neglected, where it does not stand, 
 as it sometimes does, in direct defiance of the 
 most respectable opinions received amongst 
 mankind. 
 
 Having laid down these positions, I shall proceed 
 
io6 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 with less method, because less will serve to explain 
 and apply them. 
 
 We will take it for granted, that reason is some- 
 thing- invariable and fixed in the nature of things; 
 and without endeavouring to go back to an account 
 of first principles, which for ever will elude our 
 search, we will conclude, that whatever goes under 
 the name of taste, which we can fairly bring under 
 the dominion of reason, must be considered as 
 equally exempt from change. If therefore, in the 
 course of this inquiry, we can show that there are 
 rules for the conduct of the artist which are fixed 
 and invariable, it follows of course, that the art of 
 the connoisseur, or, in other words, taste, has like- 
 wise invariable principles. 
 
 Of the judgment which we make on the works of 
 art, and the preference that we give to one class of 
 art over another, if a reason be demanded, the ques- 
 tion is perhaps evaded by answering, I judge from 
 my taste ; but it does not follow that a better answer 
 cannot be given, though, for common gazers, this 
 may be sufficient. Every man is not obliged to in- 
 vestigate the causes of his approbation or dislike. 
 
 The arts would lie open for ever to caprice and 
 casualty, if those who are to judge of their excel- 
 lences had no settled principles by which they are 
 to regulate their decisions, and the merit or defect 
 of performances were to be determined by unguided 
 fancy. And indeed we may venture to assert, that 
 whatever speculative knowledge is necessary to the 
 artist, is equally and indispensably necessary to the 
 connoisseur. 
 
 The first idea that occurs in the consideration of 
 what is fixed in art, or in taste, is that presiding 
 principle of which I have so frequently spoken in 
 former discourses — the general idea of nature. 
 The beginning, the middle, and the end of 
 everything that is valuable in taste, is comprised in 
 
The Seventh Discourse 107 
 
 the knowledge of what is truly nature ; for whatever 
 notions are not conformable to those of nature, or 
 universal opinion, must be considered as more or 
 less capricious. 
 
 My notion of nature comprehends not only the 
 forms which nature produces, but also the nature 
 and internal fabric and organisation, as I may call 
 it, of the human mind and imagination. The terms 
 beauty, or nature, which are general ideas, are but 
 different modes of expressing the same thing, 
 whether we apply these terms to statues, poetry, or 
 pictures. Deformity is not nature, but an acci- 
 dental deviation from her accustomed practice. 
 This general idea therefore ought to be called 
 nature ; and nothing else, correctly speaking, has a 
 right to that name. But we are so far from 
 speaking, in common conversation, with any such 
 accuracy, that, on the contrary, when we criticise 
 Rembrandt and other Dutch painters, who intro- 
 duced into their historical pictures exact representa- 
 tions of individual objects with all their imperfec- 
 tions, we say, — though it is not in a good taste, yet 
 it is nature. 
 
 This misapplication of terms must be very often 
 perplexing to the young student. Is not art, he 
 may say, an imitation of nature? Must he not 
 therefore, who imitates her with the greatest fidelity, 
 be the best artist? By this mode of reasoning Rem- 
 brandt has a higher place than Raffaelle. But a 
 very little reflection will serve to show us, that these 
 particularities cannot be nature : for how can that be 
 the nature of man, in which no two individuals are 
 the same? 
 
 It plainly appears, that as a work is conducted 
 under the influence of general ideas, or partial, it is 
 principally to be considered as the effect of a good or 
 a bad taste. 
 
 As beauty therefore does not consist in taking 
 
io8 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 what lies immediately before you, so neither, in our 
 pursuit of taste, are those opinions which we first 
 received and adopted, the best choice, or the most 
 natural to the mind and imagination. In the in- 
 fancy of our knowledge we seize with greediness the 
 good that is within our reach ; it is by after-con- 
 sideration, and in consequence of discipline, that we 
 refuse the present for a greater good at a distance. 
 The nobility or elevation of all arts, like the excel- 
 lence of virtue itself, consists in adopting this en- 
 larged and comprehensive idea; and all criticism 
 built upon the more confined view of what is natural, 
 may properly be called shallow criticism, rather than 
 false : its defect is, that the truth is not sufficiently 
 extensive. 
 
 It has sometimes happened, that some of the 
 greatest men in our art have been betrayed into 
 errors by this confined mode of reasoning. 
 Poussin, who, upon the whole, may be produced as 
 an artist strictly attentive to the most enlarged and 
 extensive ideas of nature, from not having settled 
 principles on this point, has in one instance at least, 
 I think, deserted truth for prejudice. He is said to 
 have vindicated the conduct of Giulio Romano for 
 his inattention to the masses of light and shade, or 
 grouping the figures in the Battle of Constantine, 
 as if designedly neglected, the better to correspond 
 with the hurry and confusion of a battle. Poussin *s 
 own conduct in many of his pictures makes us more 
 easily give credit to this report. That it was too 
 much his own practice, the Sacrifice to Silenus, and 
 the Triumph of Bacchus and Ariadne,^ may be pro- 
 duced as instances ; but this principle is still more 
 apparent, and may be said to be even more osten- 
 tatiously displayed, in his Perseus and Medusa's 
 Head.' 
 
 ^ In the Cabinet of the Earl of Ashburnham. 
 * In the Cabinet of Sir Peter Burrel. 
 
The Seventh Discourse 109 
 
 This is undoubtedly a subject of great bustle and 
 tumult, and that the first effect of the picture may 
 correspond to the subject, every principle of com- 
 position is violated ; there is no principal figure, no 
 principal light, no groups; everything is dispersed, 
 and in such a state of confusion, that the eye finds 
 no repose anywhere. In consequence of the for- 
 bidding appearance, I remember turning from it 
 with disgust, and should not have looked a second 
 time, if I had not been called back to a closer in- 
 spection. I then indeed found, what we may expect 
 always to find in the works of Poussin, correct 
 drawing, forcible expression, and just character ; 
 in short, all the excellences which so much distin- 
 guish the works of this learned painter. 
 
 This conduct of Poussin I hold to be entirely im- 
 proper to imitate. A picture should please at first 
 sight, and appear to invite the spectator's attention : 
 if on the contrary the general effect offends the eye, 
 a second view is not always sought, whatever more 
 substantial and intrinsic merit it may possess. 
 
 Perhaps no apology ought to be received for 
 offences committed against the vehicle (whether it 
 be the organ of seeing or of hearing) by which our 
 pleasures are conveyed to the mind. We must take 
 care that the eye be not perplexed and distracted 
 by a confusion of equal parts, or equal lights, 
 or offended by an unharmonious mixture of colours, 
 as we should guard against offending the ear 
 by unharmonious sounds. We may venture to 
 be more confident of the truth of this obser- 
 vation, since we find that Shakspeare, on a 
 parallel occasion, has made Hamlet recommend to 
 the players a precept of the same kind, — never to 
 offend the ear by harsh sounds : In the very torrent^ 
 tempest, and whirlwind of your passion, says he, 
 you must acquire and beget a temperance that may 
 give it smoothness. And yet, at the same time, he 
 
no The Seventh Discourse 
 
 very justly observes, The end of playing^ both at the 
 first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the 
 mirror up to nature. No one can deny, that violent 
 passions will naturally emit harsh and disagreeable 
 tones : yet this great poet and critic thought that 
 this imitation of nature would cost too much, if pur- 
 chased at the expense of disagreeable sensations, 
 or, as he expresses it, of splitting the ear. The 
 poet and actor, as well as the painter of genius who 
 is well acquainted with all the variety and sources 
 of pleasure in the mind and imagination, has little 
 regard or attention to common nature, or creeping 
 after common sense. By overleaping those narrow 
 bounds, he more effectually seizes the whole mind, 
 and more powerfully accomplishes his purpose. 
 This success is ignorantly imagined to proceed from 
 inattention to all rules, and a defiance of reason and 
 judgment ; whereas it is in truth acting according 
 to the best rules and the justest reason. 
 
 He who thinks nature, in the narrow sense of the 
 word, is alone to be followed, will produce but a 
 scanty entertainment for the imagination : every- 
 thing is to be done with which it is natural for the 
 mind to be pleased, whether it proceeds from sim- 
 plicity or variety, uniformity or irregularity ; 
 whether the scenes are familiar or exotic ; rude and 
 wild, or enriched and cultivated ; for it is natural 
 for the mind to be pleased with all these in their 
 turn. In short, whatever pleases has in it what is 
 analogous to the mind, and is therefore, in the 
 highest and best sense of the word, natural. 
 
 It is the sense of nature or truth, which ought 
 more particularly to be cultivated by the professors 
 of art; and it may be observed, that many wise and 
 learned men, who have accustomed their minds to 
 admit nothing for truth but what can be proved by 
 mathematical demonstration, have seldom any relish 
 for those arts which address themselves to the 
 
The Seventh Discourse 1 1 1 
 
 fancy, the rectitude and truth of which is known by 
 another kind of proof : and we may add, that the 
 acquisition of this knowledge requires as much cir- 
 cumspection and sagacity, as is necessary to attain 
 those truths which are more capable of demonstra- 
 tion. Reason must ultimately determine our choice 
 on every occasion ; but this reason may still be 
 exerted ineffectually by applying to taste principles 
 which, though right as far as they go, yet do not 
 reach the object. No man, for instance, can deny, 
 that it seems at first view very reasonable, that a 
 statue which is to carry down to posterity the re- 
 semblance of an individual, should be dressed in the 
 fashion of the times, in the dress which he himself 
 wore : this would certainly be true, if the dress were 
 part of the man : but after a time, the dress is only 
 an amusement for an antiquarian ; and if it obstructs 
 the general design of the piece, it is to be dis- 
 regarded by the artist. Common sense must here 
 give way to a higher sense. In the naked form, 
 and in the disposition of the drapery, the difference 
 between one artist and another is principally seen. 
 But if he is compelled to exhibit the modern dress, 
 the naked form is entirely hid, and the drapery is 
 already disposed by the skill of the tailor. Were a 
 Phidias to obey such absurd commands, he would 
 please no more than an ordinary sculptor ; since, in 
 the inferior parts of every art, the learned and the 
 ignorant are nearly upon a level. 
 
 These were probably among the reasons that in- 
 duced the sculptor of that wonderful figure of Lao- 
 coon to exhibit him naked, notwithstanding he was 
 surprised in the act of sacrificing to Apollo, and con- 
 sequently ought to have been shown in his sacerdotal 
 habits, if those greater reasons had not prepon- 
 derated. Art is not yet in so high estimation with 
 us, as to obtain so great a sacrifice as the ancients 
 made, especially the Grecians; who suffered them- 
 
112 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 selves to be represented naked, whether they were 
 g^enerals, lawgivers, or kings. 
 
 Under this head of balancing and choosing the 
 greater reason, or of two evils taking the least, we 
 may consider the conduct of Rubens in the Luxem- 
 bourg gallery, where he has mixed allegorical 
 figures with the representations of real personages, 
 which must be acknowledged to be a fault ; yet, if 
 the artist considered himself as engaged to furnish 
 this gallery with a rich, various, and splendid orna- 
 ment, this could not be done, at least in an equal 
 degree, without peopling the air and water with 
 these allegorical figures : he therefore accomplished 
 all that he purposed. In this case all lesser con- 
 siderations, which tend to obstruct the great end of 
 the work, must yield and give way. 
 
 The variety which portraits and modern dresses, 
 mixed with allegorical figures, produce, is not to be 
 slightly given up upon a punctilio of reason, when 
 that reason deprives the art in a manner of its 
 •very existence. It must always be remembered that 
 the business of a great painter is to produce a great 
 picture ; he must therefore take special care not to 
 be cajoled by specious arguments out of his 
 materials. 
 
 What has been so often said to the disadvantage 
 of allegorical poetry, — that it is tedious and unin- 
 teresting, — cannot with the same propriety be 
 applied to painting, where the interest is of a 
 different kind. If allegorical painting produces a 
 greater variety of ideal beauty, a richer, a more 
 various and delightful composition, and gives to 
 the artist a g'reater opportunity of exhibiting his 
 skill, all the interest he wishes for is accomplished ; 
 such a picture not only attracts, but fixes the atten- 
 tion. 
 
 If it be objected that Rubens judged ill at first in 
 thinking it necessary to make his work so very 
 
The Seventh Discourse 113 
 
 ornamental, this puts the question upon new ground. 
 It was his pecuhar style ; he could paint in no other ; 
 and he was selected for that work, probably, be- 
 cause it was his style. Nobody will dispute but 
 some of the best of the Roman or Bolognian schools 
 would have produced a more learned and more noble 
 work. 
 
 This leads us to another important province of 
 taste, that of weighing- the value of the different 
 classes of the art, and of estimating them accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 All arts have means within them of applying them- 
 selves with success both to the intellectual and sen- 
 sitive part of our natures. It cannot be disputed, 
 supposing both these means put in practice with 
 equal abilities, to which we ought to give the pre- 
 ference ; to him who represents the heroic arts and 
 more dignified passions of man, or to him who, by 
 the help of meretricious ornaments, however ele- 
 gant and graceful, captivates the sensuality, as it 
 may be called, of our taste. Thus the Roman and 
 Bolognian schools are reasonably preferred to the 
 Venetian, Flemish or Dutch schools, as they address 
 themselves to our best and noblest faculties. 
 
 Well-turned periods in eloquence, or harmony of 
 numbers in poetry, which are in those arts what 
 colouring is in painting, however highly we may 
 esteem them, can never be considered as of equal 
 importance with the art of unfolding^ truths that are 
 useful to mankind, and which make us better or 
 wiser. Nor can those works which remind us of 
 the poverty and meanness of our nature, be con- 
 sidered as of equal rank with what excites ideas of 
 grandeur, or raises and dignifies humanity ; or, in 
 the words of a late poet, which makes the beholder 
 learn to venerate himself as man.^ 
 
 It is reason and good sense, therefore, which ranks 
 ^ Dr. Goldsmith. 
 
 I 
 
114 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 and estimates every art, and every part of that art, 
 according to its importance, from the painter of 
 animated, down to inanimated nature. We will 
 not allow a man, who shall prefer the inferior style, 
 to say it is his taste; taste here has nothing, or at 
 least ought to have nothing, to do with the ques- 
 tion. He wants not taste, but sense, and soundness 
 of judgment. 
 
 Indeed perfection in an inferior style may be 
 reasonably preferred to mediocrity in the highest 
 walks of art. A landscape of Claude Lorrain may 
 be preferred to a history by Luca Giordano; but 
 hence appears the necessity of the connoisseur's 
 knowing in what consists the excellence of each 
 class, in order to judge how near it approaches to 
 perfection. 
 
 Even in works of the same kind, as in history- 
 painting, which is composed of various parts, excel- 
 lence of an inferior species, carried to a very high 
 degree, will make a work very valuable, and in some 
 measure compensate for the absence of the higher 
 kinds of merit. It Is the duty of the connoisseur to 
 know and esteem, as much as it may deserve, every 
 part of painting : he will not then think even Bas- 
 sano unworthy of his notice; who, though totally 
 devoid of expression, sense, grace, or elegance, may 
 be esteemed on account of his admirable taste of 
 colours, which, in his best works, are Httle inferior 
 to those of Titian. 
 
 Since I have mentioned Bassano, we must do him 
 likewise the justice to acknowledge, that though he 
 did not aspire to the dignity of expressing the char- 
 acters and passions of men, yet, with respect to 
 facility and truth in his manner of touching animals 
 of all kinds, and giving them what painters call 
 their character, few have ever excelled him. 
 
 To Bassano we may add Paul Veronese and Tin- 
 toret, for their entire inattention to what is justly 
 
The Seventh Discourse 1 1 5 
 
 thought the most essential part of our art, the ex- 
 pression of the passions. Notwithstanding these 
 glaring deficiencies, we justly esteem their works ; 
 but it must be remembered, that they do not please 
 from those defects, but from their great excellences 
 of another kind, and in spite of such transgressions. 
 These excellences too, as far as they go, are 
 founded in the truth of general nature : they tell the 
 truth, though not the whole truth. 
 
 By these considerations, which can never be too 
 frequently impressed, may be obviated two errors, 
 which I observed to have been, formerly at least, 
 the most prevalent, and to be most injurious to 
 artists ; that of thinking taste and genius to have 
 nothing to do with reason, and that of taking par- 
 ticular living objects for nature. 
 
 I shall now say something on that part of taste, 
 which, as I have hinted to you before, does not 
 belong so much to the external form of things, but 
 is addressed to the mind, and depends on its 
 original frame, or to use the expression, the organi- 
 sation of the soul ; I mean the imagination and the 
 passions. The principles of these are as invariable 
 as the former, and are to be known and reasoned 
 upon in the same manner, by an appeal to common 
 sense deciding upon the common feelings of man- 
 kind. This sense, and these feelings, appear to 
 me of equal authority, and equally conclusive. Now 
 this appeal implies a general uniformity and agree- 
 ment in the minds of men. It would be else an idle 
 and vain endeavour to establish rules of art ; it would 
 be pursuing a phantom, to attempt to move affec- 
 tions with which we were entirely unacquainted. 
 We have no reason to suspect there is a greater 
 difference between our minds than between our 
 forms; of which, though there are no two alike, 
 yet there is a general similitude that goes through 
 the whole race of mankind ; and those who have 
 
 I 2 
 
ii6 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 cultivated their taste, can distinguish what is 
 beautiful or deformed, or, in other words, what 
 agrees with or deviates from the general idea 
 of nature, in one case, as well as in the 
 other. 
 
 The internal fabric of our minds, as well as the 
 external form of our bodies, being nearly uniform ; 
 it seems then to follow of course, that as the 
 imagination is incapable of producing anything 
 originally of itself, and can only vary and combine 
 those ideas with which it is furnished by means of 
 the senses, there will be necessarily an agreement in 
 the imaginations, as in the senses of men. There 
 being this agreement, it follows, that in all cases, 
 in our lightest amusements, as well as in our most 
 serious actions and engagements of life, we must 
 regulate our affections of every kind by that of 
 others. The well-disciplined mind acknowledges 
 this authority, and submits its own opinion to the 
 public voice. It is from knowing what are the 
 general feelings and passions of mankind, that we 
 acquire a true idea of what imagination is ; though 
 it appears as if we had nothing to do but to 
 consult our own particular sensations, and these 
 were sufficient to ensure us from all error and 
 mistake. 
 
 A knowledge of the disposition and character of 
 the human mind can be acquired only by experience : 
 a great deal will be learned, I admit, by a habit of 
 examining what passes in our bosoms, what are our 
 own motives of action, and of what kind of senti- 
 ments we are conscious on any occasion. We may 
 suppose a uniformity, and conclude that the same 
 effect will be produced by the same cause in the 
 minds of others. This examination will contribute 
 to suggest to us matters of inquiry; but we can 
 never be sure that our own sensations are true and 
 right, till they are confirmed by more extensive 
 
The Seventh Discourse 117 
 
 observation. One man opposing- another deter- 
 mines nothing; but a general union of minds, hke 
 a general combination of the forces of all mankind, 
 makes a strength that is irresistible. In fact, as he 
 who does not know himself, does not know others, 
 so it may be said with equal truth, that he who does 
 not know others, knows himself but very imper- 
 fectly. 
 
 A man who thinks he is guarding himself against 
 prejudices by resisting the authority of others, 
 leaves open every avenue to singularity, vanity, self- 
 conceit, obstinacy, and many other vices, all tend- 
 ing to warp the judgment, and prevent the natural 
 operation of his faculties. This submission to 
 others is a deference which we owe, and indeed are 
 forced involuntarily to pay. In fact, we never are 
 satisfied with our opinions, whatever we may pre- 
 tend, till they are ratified and confirmed by the 
 suffrages of the rest of mankind. We dispute and 
 wrangle for ever ; we endeavour to get men to come 
 to us, when we do not go to them. 
 
 He therefore who is acquainted with the works 
 which have pleased different ages and different coun- 
 tries, and has formed his opinion on them, has more 
 materials, and more means of knowing what is 
 analogous to the mind of man, than he who is con- 
 versant only with the works of his own age or 
 country. What has pleased, and continues to 
 please, is likely to please again : hence are derived 
 the rules of art, and on this immovable foundation 
 they must ever stand. 
 
 This search and study of the history of the mind 
 ought not to be confined to one art only. It is by 
 the analogy that one art bears to another, that many 
 things are ascertained, which either were but faintly 
 seen, or, perhaps, would not have been discovered 
 at all, if the inventor had not received the first hints 
 from the practices of a sister art on a similar occa- 
 
ii8 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 sion.^ The frequent allusions which every man 
 who treats of any art is obliged to make to others, in 
 order to illustrate and confirm his principles, suffi- 
 ciently show their near connection and inseparable 
 relation. 
 
 All arts having the same general end, which is to 
 please ; and addressing themselves to the same 
 faculties through the medium of the senses ; it 
 follows that their rules and principles must have as 
 great affinity, as the different materials and the 
 different organs or vehicles by which they pass to 
 the mind, will permit them to retain/ 
 
 We may therefore conclude, that the real sub- 
 stance, as it may be called, of what goes under the 
 name of taste, is fixed and established in the nature 
 of things ; that there are certain and regular causes 
 by which the imagination and passions of men are 
 affected ; and that the knowledge of these causes is 
 acquired by a laborious and diligent investigation of 
 nature, and by the same slow progress as wisdom or 
 knowledge of every kind, however instantaneous its 
 operations may appear when thus acquired. 
 
 It has been often observed, that the good and 
 virtuous man alone can acquire this true or just 
 relish even of works of art. This opinion will not 
 appear entirely without foundation, when we con- 
 sider that the same habit of mind, which is acquired 
 by our search after truth in the more serious duties 
 of life, is only transferred to the pursuit of lighter 
 amusements. The same disposition, the same 
 desire to find something steady, substantial, and 
 durable, on which the mind can lean as it were, and 
 rest with safety, actuates us in both cases. The 
 
 1 Nulla ars, non alterius artis, aut mater, aut propinqua 
 est. — Tertull. as cited by Junius. 
 
 ' Omnes artes quae ad humanitatem pertinent, habent 
 quoddam commune vinculum, et quasi cognatione inter se 
 continentur. — Cicero, 
 
The Seventh Discourse 119 
 
 subject only is changed. We pursue the same 
 method in our search after the idea of beauty and 
 perfection in each ; of virtue, by looking forwards 
 beyond ourselves to society, and to the whole; of 
 arts, by extending our views in the same manner to 
 all ages and all times. 
 
 Every art, like our own, has in its composition 
 fluctuating as well as fixed principles. It is an 
 attentive inquiry into their difference that will enable 
 us to determine how far we are influenced by custom 
 and habit, and what is fixed in the nature of things. 
 
 To distinguish how much has solid foundation, 
 we may have recourse to the same proof by which 
 some hold that wit ought to be tried ; whether it 
 preserves itself when translated. That wit is false, 
 which can subsist only in one language ; and that 
 picture which pleases only one age or one nation 
 owes its reception to some local or accidental asso- 
 ciation of ideas. 
 
 We may apply this to every custom and habit of 
 life. Thus the general principles of urbanity, polite- 
 ness, or civility, have been the same in all nations ; 
 but the mode in which they are dressed is con- 
 tinually varying. The general idea of showing 
 respect is by making yourself less ; but the manner, 
 whether by bowing the body, kneeling, prostration, 
 puUing off the upper part of our dress, or taking 
 away the lower, ^ is a matter of custom. 
 
 Thus, in regard to ornaments, — it would be unjust 
 to conclude that because they were at first arbitrarily 
 contrived, they are therefore undeserving of our 
 attention ; on the contrary, he who neglects the 
 cultivation of those ornaments, acts contrary to 
 nature and reason. As life would be imperfect with- 
 out its highest ornaments, the arts, so these arts 
 themselves would be imperfect without their orna- 
 
 ^ Put off thy shoes from off thy feet ; for the place whereon 
 thou standest is holy ground. — Exodus, iii. 5. 
 
I20 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 ments. Thoug-h we by no means ought to rank 
 these with positive and substantial beauties, yet it 
 must be allowed, that a knowledge of both is essen- 
 tially requisite towards forming a complete, whole 
 and perfect taste. It is in reality from the orna- 
 ments, that arts receive their peculiar character and 
 complexion; we may add, that in them we find the 
 characteristical mark of a national taste; as by 
 throwing up a feather in the air, we know which way 
 the wind blows, better than by a more heavy matter. 
 
 The striking distinction between the works of the 
 Roman, Bolognian, and Venetian schools, consists 
 more in that general effect which is produced by 
 colours, than in the more profound excellences of 
 the art ; at least it is from thence that each is dis- 
 tinguished and known at first sight. Thus it is the 
 ornaments, rather than the proportions of archi- 
 tecture, which at the first glance distinguish the 
 different orders from each other ; the Doric is known 
 by its triglyphs, the Ionic by its volutes, and the 
 Corinthian by its acanthus. 
 
 What distinguishes oratory from a cold narration 
 is a more liberal, though chaste, use of those orna- 
 ments which go under the name of figurative and 
 metaphorical expressions ; and poetry distinguishes 
 itself from oratory, by words and expressions still 
 more ardent and glowing. What separates and 
 distinguishes poetry is more particularly the orna- 
 ment of verse : it is this which gives it its character, 
 and is an essential without which it cannot exist. 
 Custom has appropriated different metre to different 
 kinds of composition, in which the world is not per- 
 fectly agreed. In England the dispute is not yet 
 settled, which is to be preferred, rhyme or blank 
 verse. But however we disagree about what these 
 metrical ornaments shall be, that some metre is 
 essentially necessary is universally acknowledged. 
 
 In poetry or eloquence, to determine how far 
 
The Seventh Discourse 121 
 
 fig-urative or metaphorical language may proceed, 
 and when it begins to be affectation or beside the 
 truth, must be determined by taste; though this 
 taste, we must never forget, is regulated and formed 
 by the presiding feehngs of* mankind, — by those 
 works which have approved themselves to all times 
 and all persons. Thus, though eloquence has un- 
 doubtedly an essential and intrinsic excellence, and 
 immovable principles common to all languages, 
 founded in the nature of our passions and affections ; 
 yet it has its ornaments and modes of address, 
 which are merely arbitrary. What is approved in 
 the eastern nations as grand and majestic, would be 
 consi'^o^pH by the Greeks and Romans as turgid 
 and inflated; and they, in return, would be thought 
 by the Orientals to express themselves in a cold and 
 insipid mianner. 
 
 We may add likewise to the credit oi ornaments, 
 that it is by their means that art itself accomplishes 
 its purp'^'^o. Fresnoy calls colouring, which is one 
 of the chief ornaments of painting, lena s or oris, 
 that which procures lovers and admirers to the more 
 valuable excellences of the art. 
 
 It appears to be the same right turn of mind which 
 enables a man to acquire the truth, or the just idea 
 of what is right, in the ornaments, as in the more 
 stable principles of art. It has still the same centre 
 of perfection, though it is the centre of a smaller 
 circle. 
 
 To illustrate this by the fashion of dress, in which 
 there is allowed to be a good or bad taste. The, 
 component parts of dress are continually changing- 
 from great to little, from short to long; but the 
 general form still remains ; it is still the same general 
 dress, which is comparatively fixed, though on a 
 very slender foundation ; but it is on this which 
 fashion must rest. He who invents with the most 
 success, or dresses in the best taste, would probably,^ 
 
122 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 from the same sagacity employed to greater pur- 
 poses, have discovered equal skill, or have formed 
 the same correct taste, in the highest labours of 
 art. 
 
 I have mentioned taste in dress, which is certainly 
 one of the lowest subjects to which this word is 
 applied ; yet, as I have before observed, there is a 
 right even here, however narrow its foundation re- 
 specting the fashion of any particular nation. But 
 we have still more slender means of determining, to 
 which of the different customs of different ages or 
 countries we ought to give the preference, since they 
 seem to be all equally removed from nature. If a 
 European, when he has cut off his beard, and put 
 false hair on his head, or bound up his own natural 
 hair in regular hard knots, as unlike nature as he 
 can possibly make it ; and after having rendered 
 them immovable by the help of the fat of hogs, has 
 covered the whole with flour, laid on by a machine 
 with the utmost regularity ; if, when thus attired, he 
 issues forth, and meets a Cherokee Indian, who has 
 bestowed as much time at his toilet, and laid on 
 with equal care and attention his yellow and red 
 ochre on particular parts of his forehead or cheeks, 
 as he judges most becoming : whoever of these two 
 despises the other for this attention to the fashion 
 of his country, which ever first feels himself pro- 
 voked to laugh, is the barbarian. 
 
 All these fashions are very innocent; neither 
 worth disquisition, nor any endeavour to alter them ; 
 as the charge would, in all probability, be equally 
 distant from nature. The only circumstance against 
 which indignation may reasonably be removed, is, 
 where the operation is painful or destructive^ of 
 health; such as some of the practices at Otaheite, 
 and the strait-lacing of the English ladies; of the 
 last of which practices, how destructive it must be 
 to health and long life, the Professor of Anatomy 
 
The Seventh Discourse 123 
 
 took an opportunity of proving a few days since in 
 this Academy. 
 
 It is in dress, as in things of greater consequence. 
 Fashions originate from those only who have the 
 high and powerful advantages of rank, birth, and 
 fortune. Many of the ornaments of art, those at 
 least for which no reason can be given, are trans- 
 mitted to us, are adopted, and acquire their conse- 
 quence from the company in which we have been 
 used to see them. As Greece and Rome are the 
 fountains from whence have flowed all kinds of ex- 
 cellence, to that veneration which they have a right 
 to claim for the pleasure and knowledge which they 
 have afforded us, we voluntarily add our appro- 
 bation of every ornament and every custom that be- 
 longed to them, even to the fashion of their dress. 
 For it may be observed that, not satisfied with them 
 in their own place, we make no difficultv of dressing 
 statues of modern heroes or senators in the fashion 
 of the Roman armour or peaceful robe ; we go so far 
 as hardly to bear a statue in any other drapery. 
 
 The figures of the great men of those nations have 
 come down to us in sculpture. In sculpture remain 
 almost all the excellent specimens of ancient art. 
 We have so far associated personal dignity to the 
 persons thus represented, and the truth of art to 
 their manner of representation, that it is not in 
 our power any longer to separate them. This is not 
 so in painting ; because having no excellent ancient 
 portraits, that connection was never formed. In- 
 deed we could no more venture to paint a general 
 oflficer in a Roman military habit, than we could 
 make a statue in the present uniform. But since 
 we have no ancient portraits, — to show how ready 
 we are to adopt those kind of prejudices, we make 
 the best authoritv among the modern serve the same 
 purpose. The great variety of excellent portraits 
 with which Vandyck has enriched this nation, we are 
 
124 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 not content to admire for their real excellence, but 
 extend our approbation even to the dress which 
 happened to be the fashion of that ag-e. We all very 
 well remember how common it was a few years ago 
 for portraits to be drawn in this fantastic dress ; and 
 this custom is not yet entirely laid aside. By this 
 means it must be acknowledg-ed very ordinary 
 pictures acquired something- of the air and effect of 
 the works of Vandyck, and appeared therefore at 
 first sight to be better pictures than they really were : 
 they appeared so, however, to those only who had 
 the means of making this association ; and when 
 made, it was irresistible. But this association is 
 nature, and refers to that secondary truth that comes 
 from conformity to general prejudice and opinion ; 
 it is therefore not merely fantastical. Besides the 
 prejudice which we have in favour of ancient dresses, 
 there may be likewise other reasons for the effect 
 which they produce ; among- which we may justly 
 rank the simplicity of them, consisting of little more 
 than one single piece of drapery, without those 
 whimsical capricious forms by which all other 
 dresses are embarrassed. 
 
 Thus, though it is from the prejudice we have in 
 favour of the ancients, who have tau^g^-ht us architec- 
 ture, that we have adopted likewise their ornaments ; 
 and though we are satisfied that neither nature nor 
 reason are the foundation of those beauties which we 
 imagine we see in that art, yet if anyone, persuaded 
 of this truth, should therefore invent new orders of 
 equal beauty, which we will suppose to be possible 
 they would not please; nor ought he to complain, 
 since the old has that great advantage of having 
 custom and prejudice on its side. In this case we 
 leave what has every prejudice in its favour, to take 
 that which will have no advantage over what we have 
 left, but novelty : which soon destroys itself, and at 
 any rate is but a weak antagonist against custom. 
 
The Seventh Discourse 125 
 
 Ancient ornaments, having the right of posses- 
 sion, ought not to be removed, unless to make room 
 for that which not only has higher pretensions, but 
 such pretensions as will balance the evil and con- 
 fusion which innovation always brings with it. 
 
 To this we may add, that even the durability of 
 the materials will often contribute to give a superior- 
 ity to one object over another. Ornaments in 
 buildings, with which taste is principally concerned, 
 are composed of m.aterials which last longer than 
 those of which dress is composed ; the former there- 
 fore make higher pretensions to our favour and 
 prejudice. 
 
 Some attention is surely due to what we can no 
 more get rid of, than we can go out of ourselves. 
 We are creatures of prejudice ; we neither can nor 
 ought to eradicate it ; we must only regulate it by 
 reason ; which kind of regulation is indeed little 
 more than obliging the lesser, the local and tem- 
 porary prejudices, to give way to those which are 
 more durable and lasting. 
 
 He, therefore, who in his practice of portrait- 
 painting wishes to dignify his subject, which we will 
 suppose to be a lady, w^ill not paint her in the modern 
 dress, the familiarity of which alone is sufficient to 
 destroy all dignity. He takes care that his work 
 shall correspond to those ideas and that imagination 
 which he knows will regulate the judgment^ of 
 others ; and therefore dresses his figure something 
 w^ith the general air of the antique for the sake of 
 dignity, and preserves something of the modern 
 for the sake of likeness. By this conduct his 
 works correspond with those prejudices which we 
 have in favour of what we continually see; and 
 the relish of the antique simplicity corresponds 
 with what we may call the more learned and 
 scientific prejudice. 
 
 There was a statue made not long since of 
 
126 The Seventh Discourse 
 
 Voltaire, which the sculptor, not having that respect 
 for the prejudices of mankind which he ought to 
 have had, made entirely naked, and as meagre and 
 emaciated as the original is said to be. The con- 
 sequence was what might have been expected ; it re- 
 mained in the sculptor^s shop, though it was 
 intended as a public ornament and a public honour 
 to Voltaire, for it was procured at the expense of his 
 contemporary wits and admirers. 
 
 Whoever would reform a nation, supposing a bad 
 taste to prevail in it, will not accomplish his purpose 
 by going directly against the stream of their pre- 
 judices. Men's minds must be prepared to receive 
 what is new to them. Reformation is a work of 
 time. A national taste, however wrong it may be, 
 cannot be totally changed at once ; we must yield 
 a little to the prepossession which has taken hold on 
 the mind, and we may then bring people to adopt 
 what would offend them, if endeavoured to be intro- 
 duced by violence. When Battista Franco was em- 
 ployed, in conjunction with Titian, Paul Veronese, 
 and Tintoret, to adorn the library of St. Mark's, his 
 work, Vasari says, gave less satisfaction than any 
 of the others : the dry manner of the Roman school 
 was very ill calculated to please eyes that had been 
 accustomed to the luxuriance, splendour, and rich- 
 ness of Venetian colouring. Had the Romans been 
 the judges of this work, probably the determination 
 would have been just contrary ; for in the more noble 
 parts of the art, Battista Franco was perhaps not 
 inferior to any of his rivals. 
 
 Gentlemen, It has been the main scope and prin- 
 cipal end of this discourse to demonstrate the reality 
 of a standard in taste, as well as in corporeal beauty ; 
 that a false or depraved taste is a thing as well 
 known, as easily discovered, as anything that is de- 
 formed, mis-shapen, or wrong, in our form or out- 
 ward make ; and that this knowledge is derived from 
 
The Seventh Discourse 127 
 
 the uniformity of sentiments among- mankind, from 
 whence proceeds the knowledge of what are the 
 general habits of nature; the result of which is an 
 idea of perfect beauty. 
 
 If what has been advanced be true, — that besides 
 this beauty or truth, which is formed on the uniform, 
 eternal, and immutable laws of nature, and which 
 of necessity can be but one ; that besides this one 
 immutable verity there are likewise what we have 
 called apparent or secondary truths, proceeding 
 from local and temporary prejudices, fancies, 
 fashions or accidental connection of ideas ; if it ap- 
 pears that these last have still their foundation, 
 however slender, in the original fabric of our minds ; 
 it follows that all these truths or beauties deserve 
 and require the attention of the artist, in proportion 
 to their stability or duration, or as their influence is 
 more or less extensive. And let me add, that as they 
 ought not to pass their just bounds, so neither do 
 they, in a well-regulated taste, at all prevent or 
 weaken the influence of those general principles, 
 which alone can give to art its true and permanent 
 dignity. 
 
 To form this just taste is undoubtedly in your own 
 power, but it is to reason and philosophy that you 
 must have recourse ; from them you must borrow the 
 balance, by which is to be weighed and estimated 
 the value of every pretension that intrudes itself on 
 your notice. 
 
 The general objection which is made to the intro- 
 duction of philosophy into the regions of taste, is, 
 that it checks and restrains the flights of the 
 imagination, and gives that timidity, which an 
 over-carefulness not to err or act contrary to reason 
 is likely to produce. It is not so. Fear is neither 
 reason nor philosophy. The true spirit of philo- 
 sophy, by givin^g- knowledge, gives a manly con- 
 fidence, and substitutes rational firmness in the place 
 
128 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 of vain presumption. A man of real taste is always 
 a man of judg-ment in other respects ; and those 
 inventions v^hich either disdain or shrink from 
 reason, are generally, I fear, more like the dreams 
 of a distem.pered brain, than the exalted enthusiasm 
 of a sound and true genius. In the midst ol the 
 highest flights of fancy or imagination, reason ought 
 to preside from first to last, though I admit her more 
 powerful operation is upon reflection. 
 
 Let me add, that some of the greatest names of 
 antiquity, and those who have most distinguished 
 themselves in works of genius and imagination, were 
 equally eminent for their critical skill. Plato, 
 Aristotle, Cicero, and Horace ; and among the 
 moderns, Boileau, Corneille, Pope, and Dryden, are 
 at least instances of eenius not being destroj^ed by 
 attention or subjection to rules and science. I 
 should hope therefore that the natural consequence 
 of what has been said, would be to excite in you a 
 desire of knowing the principles and conduct of the 
 great masters of our art, and respect and veneration 
 for them when known. 
 
 DISCOURSE VIII 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December lo, 1778. 
 
 The Principles of Art, whether Poetry or Painting, have their 
 Foundation in the Mind ; such as Novelty, Variety, and 
 Contrast ; these in their Excess become Defects. — Sim- 
 plicity. Its Excess Disagreeable. — Rules not to be always 
 observed in their Literal Sense : Sufficient to preserve the 
 Spirit of the Law. — Observations on the Prize Pictures. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 I HAVE recommended in former discourses,^ that 
 artists should learn their profession by endeavour- 
 * Discourses II. and VI. 
 
The Eighth Discourse 129 
 
 ing to form an idea of perfection from the differ- 
 ent excellences which lie dispersed in the various 
 schools of painting. Some difficulty will still occur, 
 to know what is beauty, and where it may be found : 
 one would wish not to be obliged to take it entirely 
 on the credit of fame ; though to this, I acknowledge, 
 the younger students must unavoidably submit. 
 Any suspicion in them of the chance of their being 
 deceived, will have more tendency to obstruct their 
 advancement, than even an enthusiastic confidence 
 in the perfection of their models. But to the more 
 advanced in the art, who wish to stand on more 
 stable and firmer ground, and to establish prin- 
 ciples on a stronger foundation than authority, how- 
 ever venerable or powerful, it may be safely told, 
 that there is still a higher tribunal, to which those 
 great masters themselves must submit, and to which 
 indeed every excellence in art must be ultimately 
 referred. He who is ambitious to enlarge the boun- 
 daries of his art must extend his views, beyond the 
 precepts which are found in books or may be drawn 
 from the practice of his predecessors, to a know- 
 ledge of those precepts in the mind, those operations 
 of intellectual nature, to which everything that 
 aspires to please must be proportioned and accom- 
 modated. 
 
 Poetry having a more extensive power than our 
 art, exerts its influence over almost all the passions ; 
 among those may be reckoned one of our most pre- 
 valent dispositions, anxiety for the future. Poetry 
 operates by raising our curiosity, engaging the mind 
 by degrees to take an interest in the event, keeping- 
 that event suspended, and surprising at last with an 
 unexpected catastrophe. 
 
 The painter^s art is more confined, and has 
 nothing that corresponds with, or perhaps is 
 equivalent to, this power and advantage of leading 
 the mind on, till attention is totally engaged. What 
 
 K 
 
130 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 is done by painting, must be done at one blow; 
 curiosity has received at once all the satisfaction it 
 can ever have. There are, however, other intellec- 
 tual qualities and dispositions which the painter can 
 satisfy and affect as powerfully as the poet : among 
 those we may reckon our love of novelty, variety, 
 and contrast; these qualities, on examination, will 
 be found to refer to a certain activity and restless- 
 ness, which has a pleasure and delight in being exer- 
 cised and put in motion : art therefore only ad- 
 ministers to those wants and desires of the mind. 
 
 It requires no long disquisition to show, that the 
 dispositions which I have stated actually subsist in 
 the human mind. Variety reanimates the attention, 
 which is apt to languish under a continual sameness. 
 Novelty makes a more forcible impression on the 
 mind, than can be made by the representation of 
 what we have often seen before ; and contrasts rouse 
 the power of comparison by opposition. All this is 
 obvious ; but, on the other hand, it nmst be remem- 
 bered, that the mind, though an active principle, has 
 likewise a disposition to indolence; and though it 
 loves exercise, loves it only to a certain degree, be- 
 yond which it is very unwilling to be led, or driven ; 
 the pursuit therefore of novelty and variety may be 
 carried to excess. When variety entirely destroys 
 the pleasure proceeding from uniformity and repeti- 
 tion, and when novelty counteracts and shuts out the 
 pleasure arising from old habits and customs, they 
 oppose too much the indolence of our disposition : 
 the mind therefore can bear with pleasure but a small 
 portion of novelty at a time. The main part of the 
 work must be in the mode to which we have been 
 used. An affection to old habits and customs I take 
 to be the predominant disposition of the mind, and 
 novelty comes as an exception : where all is novelty, 
 the attention, the exercise of the mind is too violent. 
 Contrast, in the same manner, when it exceeds cer- 
 
The Eighth Discourse 131 
 
 tain limits, is as disagreeable as a violent and per- 
 petual opposition; it gives to the senses, in their 
 progress, a more sudden change than they can bear 
 with pleasure. 
 
 It is then apparent, that those qualities, however 
 they contribute to the perfection of art, when kept 
 within certain bounds, if they are carried to excess, 
 become defects, and require correction : a work con- 
 sequently will not proceed better and better as it is 
 more varied ; variety can never be the groundwork 
 and principle of the performance — it must be only 
 employed to recreate and relieve. 
 
 To apply these general observations, which belong 
 equally to all arts, to ours in particular. In a com- 
 position, when the objects are scattered and divided 
 into many equal parts, the eye is perplexed and 
 fatigued, from not knowing where to rest, where to 
 find the principal action, or which is the principal 
 figure ; for where all are making equal pretensions 
 to notice, all are in equal danger of neglect. 
 
 The expression which is used very often on these 
 occasions is, the piece wants repose; a word which 
 perfectly expresses a relief of the mind from that 
 state of hurry and anxiety which it suffers, when 
 looking at a work of this character. 
 
 On the other hand, absolute unity, that is, a large 
 work, consisting of one group or mass of light only, 
 would be as defective as an heroic poem without 
 episode, or any collateral incidents to recreate the 
 mind with that variety which it always requires. 
 
 An instance occurs to me of two painters (Rem- 
 brandt and Poussin), of characters totally opposite 
 to each other in every respect, but in nothing more 
 than in their mode of composition, and management 
 of light and shadow. Rembrandt^s manner is 
 absolute unity ; he often has but one group, and ex- 
 hibits little more than one spot of light in the midst 
 of a large quantity of shadow : if he has a second 
 
 K 2 
 
132 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 mass, that second bears no proportion to the prin- 
 cipal. Poussin, on the contrary, has scarce any 
 principal mass of light at all, and his figures are 
 often too much dispersed, without sufiBcient atten- 
 tion to place them in groups. 
 
 The conduct of these two painters is entirely the 
 reverse of what might be expected from their general 
 style and character; the works of Poussin being 
 as much distinguished for simplicity, as those of 
 Rembrandt for combination. Even this conduct of 
 Poussin might proceed from too great an affection 
 to simplicity of another kind ; too great a desire to 
 avoid that ostentation of art, with regard to light 
 and shadow, on which Rembrandt so much wished 
 to draw the attention : however, each of them ran 
 into contrary extremes, and it is difficult to deter- 
 mine which is the most reprehensible, both being 
 equally distant from the demands of nature, and the 
 purposes of art. 
 
 The same just moderation must be observed in 
 regard to ornaments ; nothing will contribute more 
 to destroy repose than profusion, of whatever kind, 
 whether it consists in the multiplicity of objects, or 
 the variety and brightness of colours. On the other 
 hand, a work without ornament, instead of simpli- 
 city, to which it makes pretensions, has rather the 
 appearance of poverty. The degree to which 
 ornaments are admissible must be regulated by the 
 professed style of the work ; but we may be sure of 
 this truth, — that the most ornamental style requires 
 repose to set off even its ornaments to advantage. 
 I cannot avoid mentioning here an instance of repose 
 in that faithful and accurate painter of nature, 
 Shakspeare ; the short dialogue between Duncan 
 and Banquo, whilst they are approaching the gates 
 of Macbeth *s castle. Their conversation very 
 naturally turns upon the beauty of its situation, and 
 the pleasantness of the air : and Banquo, observing 
 
The Eighth Discourse 133 
 
 the martlets* nests in every recess of the cornice, 
 remarks, that where those birds most breed and 
 haunt, the air is deHcate. The subject of this quiet 
 and easy conversation gives that repose so necessary 
 to the mind, after the tumultuous bustle of the pre- 
 ceding- scenes, and perfectly contrasts the scene of 
 horror that immediately succeeds. It seems as if 
 Shakspeare asked himself, What is a prince likely 
 to say to his attendants on such an occasion? The 
 modern writers seem, on the contrary, to be always 
 searching for new thoughts, such as never could 
 occur to men in the situation represented. This is 
 also frequently the practice of Homer; who, from 
 the midst of battles and horrors, relieves and re- 
 freshes the mind of the reader, by introducing some 
 quiet rural Image, or picture of familiar domestic 
 life. The writers of every age and country, where 
 taste has begun to decline, paint and adorn every 
 object they touch ; are always on the stretch ; never 
 deviate or sink a moment from the pompous and 
 the brilliant. Lucan, Statins, and Claudian (as a 
 learned critic has observed), are examples of this 
 bad taste and want of judgment; they never soften 
 their tones, or condescend to be natural : all is ex- 
 aggeration and perpetual splendour, without afford- 
 ing repose of any kind. 
 
 As we are speaking of excesses, it will not be 
 remote from our purpose to say a few words upon 
 simplicity ; which, in one of the senses in which it is 
 used, is considered as the general corrector of 
 excess. We shall at present forbear to consider it 
 as implying that exact conduct which proceeds from 
 an intimate knowledge of simple unadulterated 
 nature, as it is then only another word for perfection, 
 which neither stops short of, nor oversteps, reality 
 and truth. 
 
 In our inquiry after simplicity, as in many other 
 inquiries of this nature, we can best explain what is 
 
134 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 right, by showing what is wrong; and, indeed, in 
 this case it seems to be absolutely necessary : sim- 
 plicity, being only a negative virtue, cannot be 
 described or defined. We must therefore explain 
 its nature, and show the advantage and beauty which 
 is derived from it, by showing the deformity which 
 proceeds from its neglect. 
 
 Though instances of this neglect might be ex- 
 pected to be found in practice, we should not expect 
 to find in the works of critics precepts that bid 
 defiance to simplicity and everything that relates to 
 it. De Piles recommends to us portrait-painters to 
 add grace and dignity to the characters of those 
 « whose pictures we draw : so far he is undoubtedly 
 right; but, unluckily, he descends to particulars, 
 and gives his own idea of grace and dignity. 
 says he, you draiv persons of high character and 
 dignity, they ought to be drawn in such an attitude 
 that the portraits must seem to speak to us of them- 
 selves, and, as it were, to say to us, * Stop, take 
 notice of me, I am that invincible King, surrounded 
 hy Majesty^: * I am that valiant commander, who 
 struck terror everywhere' ; am that great minister, 
 who knew all the springs of polities': 'I am that 
 magistrate of consummate wisdom and probity,' 
 He goes on in this manner, with all the characters he 
 can think on. We may contrast the tumour of this 
 presumptuous loftiness with the natural unaffected 
 air of the portraits of Titian, where dignity, seeming 
 to be natural and inherent, draws spontaneous 
 reverence, and instead of being thus vainly assumed, 
 has the appearance of an unalienable adjunct ; 
 whereas such pompous and laboured insolence of 
 grandeur is so far from creating respect, that it 
 betrays vulgarity and meanness, and new-acquired 
 consequence. 
 
 The painters, many of them at least, have not 
 been backward in adopting the notions contained 
 
The Eighth Discourse 135 
 
 in these precepts. The portraits of Rigfaud are 
 perfect examples of an implicit observance of these 
 rules of De Piles ; so that though he was a painter 
 of great merit in many respects, yet that merit is 
 entirely overpowered by a total absence of simplicity 
 in every sense. 
 
 Not to multiply instances, which might be pro- 
 duced for this purpose, from the works of history- 
 painters, I shall mention only one, — a picture which 
 I have seen, of the Supreme Being by Coypell. 
 
 This subject the Roman Catholic painters have 
 taken the liberty to represent, however indecent the 
 attempt, and however obvious the impossibility of 
 any approach to an adequate representation : but 
 here the air and character, which the painter has 
 given, and he has doubtless given the highest he 
 could conceive, are so degraded by an attempt at 
 such dignity as De Piles has recommended, that we 
 are enraged at the folly and presumption of the 
 artist, and consider it as little less than profanation. 
 
 As we have passed to a neighbouring nation for 
 instances of want of this quality, we must acknow- 
 ledge, at the same time, that they have produced 
 great examples of simplicity, in Poussin and Le 
 Sueur. But as we are speaking of the most refined 
 and subtle notion of perfection, may we not inquire, 
 whether a curious eye cannot discern some faults, 
 even in those great men? I can fancy, that even 
 Poussin, by abhorring that affectation and that want 
 of simplicity, which he observed in his countrymen, 
 has, in certain particulars, fallen into the contrary 
 extreme, so far as to approach to a kind of affecta- 
 tion ; — to what, in writing, would be called pedantry. 
 
 When simplicity, instead of being a corrector, 
 seems to set up for herself ; that is, when an artist 
 seems to value himself solely upon this quality ; such 
 an ostentatious display of simplicity becomes then 
 as disagreeable and nauseous as any other kind of 
 
136 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 affectation. He is, however, in this case, likely 
 enough to sit down contented with his own work; 
 for though he finds the world look at it with in- 
 difference or dislike, as being destitute of every 
 quality that can recreate or give pleasure to the 
 mind, yet he consoles himself, that it has simplicity, 
 a beauty of too pure and chaste a nature to be 
 relished by vulgar minds. 
 
 It is in art as in morals ; no character would in- 
 spire us with an enthusiastic admiration of his 
 virtue, if that virtue consisted only in an absence of 
 vice ; something more is required ; a man must do 
 more than merely his duty, to be a hero. 
 
 Those works of the ancients, which are in the 
 highest esteem, have something beside mere sim- 
 plicity to recommend them. The Apollo, the Venus, 
 the Laocoon, the Gladiator, have a certain composi- 
 tion of action, have contrasts sufficient to give grace 
 and energy in a high degree; but it must be con- 
 fessed of the many thousand antique statues which 
 we have, that their general characteristic is border- 
 ing at least on inanimate insipidity. 
 
 Simplicity, when so very inartificial as to seem 
 to evade the difficulties of art, is a very suspicious 
 virtue. 
 
 I do not, however, wish to degrade simplicity 
 from the high estimation in which it has been ever 
 justly held. It is our barrier against that great 
 enemy to truth and nature, affectation, which is ever 
 clinging to the pencil, and ready to drop in and 
 poison everything it touches. 
 
 Our love and affection to simplicity proceeds in a 
 great measure from our aversion to every kind of 
 affectation. There is likewise another reason why 
 so much stress is laid upon this virtue ; the pro- 
 pensity which artists have to fall into the contrary 
 extreme; we therefore set a guard on that side 
 which is most assailable. When a young artist is 
 
The Eighth Discourse 137 
 
 first told, that his composition and his attitudes must 
 be contrasted, that he must turn the head contrary 
 to the position of the body, in order to produce grace 
 and animation ; that his outline must be undulating, 
 and swelling, to give grandeur ; and that the eye 
 must be gratified with a variety of colours ; when he 
 is told this, with certain animating words, of spirit, 
 dignity, energy, grace, greatness of style, and 
 brilliancy of tints, he becomes suddenly vain of his 
 newly acquired knowledge, and never thinks he can 
 carry those rules too far. It is then that the aid 
 of simplicity ought to be called in, to correct the 
 exuberance of youthful ardour. 
 
 The same may be said in regard to colouring, 
 which in its pre-eminence is particularly applied to 
 flesh. An artist, in his first essay of imitating 
 nature, would make the whole mass of one colour, 
 as the oldest painters did ; till he is taught to ob- 
 serve not only the variety of tints, which are in the 
 object itself, but the differences produced by the 
 gradual decline of light to shadow : he then im- 
 mediately puts his instruction in practice, and intro- 
 duces a variety of distinct colours. He must then 
 be again corrected and told, that though there is 
 this variety, yet the effect of the whole upon the eye 
 must have the union and simplicity of the colouring 
 of nature. 
 
 And here we may observ^e that the progress of 
 an individual student bears a great resemblance to 
 the progress and advancement of the art itself. 
 Want of simplicity would probably be not one of the 
 defects of an artist who had studied nature only, as 
 it was not of the old masters, who lived in the 
 time preceding the great art of painting ; on the 
 contrary, their works are too simple and too inarti- 
 ficial. 
 
 The art in Its infancy, like the first work of a 
 student, was dry, hard, and simple. But this kind 
 
138 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 of barbarous simplicity would be better named 
 penury, as it proceeds from mere want ; from want 
 of knowledge, want of resources, want of abilities 
 to be otherwise : their simplicity was the offspring, 
 not of choice, but necessity. 
 
 In the second stage they were sensible of this 
 poverty ; and those who were the most sensible of the 
 want were the best judges of the measure of the 
 supply. There were painters who emerged from 
 poverty without falling into luxury. Their success 
 induced others, who probably never would of them- 
 selves have had strength of mind to discover the 
 original defect, to endeavour at the remedy by an 
 abuse; and they ran into the contrary extreme. 
 But however they may have strayed, we cannot re- 
 commend to them to return to that simplicity which 
 they have justly quitted ; but to deal out their abund- 
 ance with a more sparing hand, with that dignity 
 which makes no parade, either of its riches, or of 
 its art. It is not easy to give a rule which may 
 serve to fix this just and correct medium ; because 
 when we may have fixed, or nearly fixed the middle 
 point, taken as a general principle, circumstances 
 may oblige us to depart from it, either on the side 
 of simplicity or on that of variety and decoration. 
 
 I thought it necessary in a former discourse, 
 speaking of the difference of the sublime and orna- 
 mental style of painting, — in order to excite your 
 attention to the more manly, noble, and dignified 
 manner, to leave perhaps an impression too con- 
 temptuous of those ornamental parts of our art, for 
 which many have valued themselves, and many 
 works are much valued and esteemed. 
 
 I said then, what I thought it was right at that 
 time to say ; I supposed the disposition of young men 
 more inclinable to splendid negligence, than per- 
 severance in laborious application to acquire correct- 
 ness ; and therefore did as we do in making what is 
 
The Eighth Discourse 139 
 
 crooked straight, by bending it the contrary way, 
 in order that it may remain straight at last. 
 
 For this purpose, then, and to correct excess or 
 neglect of any kind, we may here add, that it is not 
 enough that a work be learned ; it must be pleasing : 
 the painter must add grace to strength, if he desires 
 to secure the first impression in his favour. Our 
 taste has a kind of sensuality about it, as well as a 
 love of the sublime ; both these qualities of the mind 
 are to have their proper consequence, as far as they 
 do not counteract each other ; for that is the grand 
 error which much care ought to be taken to avoid. 
 
 There are some rules, whose absolute authority, 
 like that of our nurses, continues no longer than 
 while we are in a state of childhood. One of the 
 first rules, for instance, that I believe every master 
 would give to a young pupil, respecting his conduct 
 and management of light and shadow, would be 
 what Lionardo da Vinci has actually given ; that you 
 must oppose a light ground to the shadowed side of 
 your figure, and a dark ground to the light side. If 
 Lionardo had lived to see the superior splendour 
 and effect which has been since produced by the 
 exactly contrary conduct, — by joining light to light, 
 and shadow to shadow, — though without doubt he 
 would have admired it, yet, as it ought not, so prob- 
 ably it would not, be the first rule with which he 
 would have begun his instructions. 
 
 Again : in the artificial management of the figures, 
 it is directed that they shall contrast each other 
 according to the rules generally given ; that if one 
 figure opposes his front to the spectator, the next 
 figure is to have his back turned, and that the limbs 
 of each individual figure be contrasted; that is, if 
 the right leg be put forward, the right arm is to 
 be drawn back. 
 
 It is very proper that those rules should be given 
 in the Academy; it is proper the young students 
 
140 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 should be informed that some research is to be made, 
 and that they should be habituated to consider every 
 excellence as reducible to principles. Besides, it 
 is the natural progress of instruction to teach first 
 what is obvious and perceptible to the senses, and 
 from hence proceed gradually to notions large, 
 liberal, and complete, such as comprise the more 
 refined and higher excellences in art. But when 
 students are more advanced, they will find that the 
 greatest beauties of character and expression are 
 produced without contrast ; nay, more, that this con- 
 trast would ruin and destroy that natural energy of 
 men engaged in real action, unsolicitous of grace. 
 St. Paul preaching at Athens in one of the cartoons, 
 far from any affected academical contrast of limbs, 
 stands equally on both legs, and both hands are in 
 the same attitude : add contrast, and the whole 
 energy and unaffected grace of the figure is 
 destroyed. Elymas the sorcerer stretches both 
 hands forward in the same direction, which gives 
 perfectly the expression intended. Indeed you 
 never will find in the works of Raffaelle any of those 
 schoolboy affected contrasts. Whatever contrast 
 there is, appears without any seeming agency of art, 
 by the natural chance of things. 
 
 What has been said of the evil of excesses of all 
 kinds, whether of simplicity, variety, of contrast, 
 naturally suggests to the painter the necessity of 
 a general inquiry into the true meaning and 
 cause of rules, and how they operate on those 
 faculties to which they are addressed : by knowing 
 their general purpose and meaning, he will often 
 find that he need not confine himself to the literal 
 sense; it will be sufliicient if he preserve the spirit 
 of the law. 
 
 Critical remarks are not always understood without 
 examples : it may not be improper therefore to give 
 instances where the rule itself, though generally re- 
 
The Eighth Discourse 141 
 
 ceived, is false, or where a narrow conception of it 
 may lead the artist into great errors. 
 
 It is given as a rule by Fresnoy, that the principal 
 figure of a subject must appear in the midst of the 
 picture^ under the principal lighty to distinguish it 
 from the rest. A painter who should think himself 
 obliged strictly to follow this rule would encumber 
 himself with needless difficulties ; he would be con- 
 fined to great uniformity of composition, and be 
 deprived of many beauties which are incompatible 
 with its observance. The meaning of this rule ex- 
 tends, or ought to extend, no further than this : 
 that the principal figure should be immediately dis- 
 tinguished at the first glance of the eye ; but there is 
 no necessity that the principal light should fall on 
 the principal figure, or that the principal figure 
 should be in the middle of the picture. It is suffi- 
 cient that it be distinguished by its place, or by the 
 attention of other figures pointing it out to the spec- 
 tator. So far is this rule from being indispensable, 
 that it is very seldom practised, other considerations 
 of greater consequence often standing in the way. 
 Examples in opposition to this rule are found in the 
 cartoons, in Christ's Charge to Peter, the Preach- 
 ing of St. Paul, and Elymas the Sorcerer, who is 
 undoubtedly the principal object in that picture. In 
 none of those compositions is the principal figure in 
 the midst of the picture. In the very admirable 
 composition of the Tent of Darius, by Le Brun, 
 Alexander is not in the middle of the picture, nor 
 does the principal light fall on him ; but the atten- 
 tion of all the other figures immediately distin- 
 guishes him, and distinguishes him more properly; 
 the greatest light falls on the daughter of Darius, 
 who is in the middle of the picture, where it is more 
 necessary the principal light should be placed. 
 
 It is very extraordinary that Felibien, who has 
 given a very minute description of this picture, but 
 
142 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 indeed such a description as may be rather called 
 panegyric than criticism, thinking it necessary 
 (according to the precept of Fresnoy) that Alex- 
 ander should possess the principal light, has 
 accordingly given it to him ; he might with equal 
 truth have said that he was placed in the middle 
 of the picture, as he seemed resolved to give this 
 piece every kind of excellence which he con- 
 ceived to be necessary to perfection. His gene- 
 rosity is here unluckily misapplied, as it would 
 have destroyed in a great measure the beauty of 
 the composition. 
 
 Another instance occurs to me, where equal 
 liberty may be taken in regard to the management 
 of light. Though the general practice is to make a 
 large mass about the middle of the picture sur- 
 rounded by shadow, the reverse may be practised, 
 and the spirit of the rule may still be preserved. 
 Examples of this principle reversed may be found 
 very frequently in the works of the Venetian school. 
 In the great composition of Paul Veronese, the 
 Marriage at Cana, the figures are for the most part 
 in half shadow ; the great light is in the sky ; and 
 indeed the general effect of this picture, which is so 
 striking, is no more than what we often see in land- 
 scapes, in small pictures of fairs and country feasts ; 
 but those principles of light and shadow, being 
 transferred to a large scale, to a space containing 
 near a hundred figures as large as life, and con- 
 ducted to all appearance with as much facility, and 
 with an attention as steadily fixed upon the whole 
 together^ as if it were a small picture immediately 
 under the eye, the work justly excites our admira- 
 tion ; the difficulty being increased as the extent is 
 enlarged. 
 
 The various modes of composition are infinite; 
 sometimes it shall consist of one large group in the 
 middle of the picture, and the smaller groups on 
 
The Eighth Discourse 143 
 
 each side; or a plain space in the middle, and the 
 groups of figures ranked round this vacuity. 
 
 Whether this principal broad light be in the middle 
 space of ground, as in the School of Athens, or in 
 the sky, as in the Marriage at Cana, in the Andro- 
 meda, and in most of the pictures of Paul Veronese ; 
 or whether the light be on the groups ; whatever 
 mode of composition is adopted, every variety and 
 licence is allowable : this only is indisputably neces- 
 sary, that to prevent the eye from being distracted 
 and confused by a multiplicity of objects of equal 
 magnitude, those objects, whether they consist of 
 lights, shadows, or figures, must be disposed in 
 large masses and groups properly varied and con- 
 trasted ; that to a certain quantity of action a pro- 
 portioned space of plain ground is required ; that 
 light is to be supported by sufficient shadow; and, 
 we may add, that a certain quantity of cold colours 
 is necessary to give value and lustre to the warm 
 colours : what those proportions are cannot be so well 
 learnt by precept as by observation on pictures, 
 and in this knowledge bad pictures will instruct as 
 well as good. Our inquiry why pictures have a bad 
 effect may be as advantageous as the inquiry why 
 they have a good effect ; each will corroborate the 
 principles that are suggested by the other. 
 
 Though it is not my business to enter into the 
 detail of our art, yet I must take this opportunity 
 of mentioning one of the means of producing that 
 great effect which we observe in the works of the 
 Venetian painters, as I think it is not generally 
 known or observed. It ought, in my opinion, to be 
 indispensably observed, that the masses of light in 
 a picture be always of a warm mellow colour, yellow, 
 red, or a yellowish-white; and that the blue, the 
 grey, or the green colours be kept almost entirely 
 out of these masses, and be used only to support 
 and set off these warm colours; and for this pur- 
 
144 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 pose, a small proportion of cold colours will be 
 sufficient. 
 
 Let this conduct be reversed ; let the light be cold, 
 and the surrounding colours warm, as we often see 
 in the works of the Roman and Florentine painters, 
 and it will be out of the power of art, even in the 
 hands of Rubens or Titian, to make a picture splen- 
 did and harmonious. 
 
 Le Brun and Carlo Maratti were two painters of 
 great merit, and particularly what may be called 
 academical merit, but were both deficient in this 
 management of colours : the want of observing this 
 rule is one of the causes of that heaviness of effect 
 which is so observable in their works. The princi- 
 pal light in the picture of Le Brun, which I just now 
 mentioned, falls on Statira, who is dressed very in- 
 judiciously in a pale blue drapery : it is true, he has 
 heightened this blue with gold, but that is not 
 enough ; the whole picture has a heavy air, and by 
 no means answers the expectation raised by the 
 print. Poussin often made a spot of blue drapery, 
 when the general hue of the picture was inclinable 
 to brown or yellow; which shows sufficiently, that 
 harmony of colouring was not a part of the art that 
 had much engaged the attention of that great 
 painter. 
 
 The conduct of Titian in the picture of Bacchus and 
 Ariadne has been much celebrated, and justly, for 
 the harmony of colouring. To Ariadne is given (say 
 the critics) a red scarf, to relieve the figure from the 
 sea, which is behind her. It is not for that reason 
 alone, but for another of much greater consequence ; 
 for the sake of the general harmony and effect of the 
 picture. The figure of Ariadne is separated from 
 the great group, and is dressed in blue, which, added 
 to the colour of the sea, makes that quantity of cold 
 colour which Titian thought necessary for the sup- 
 iport and brilliancy of the great group ; which group 
 
The Eighth Discourse 145 
 
 is composed, with very little exception, entirely of 
 mellow colours. But as the picture in this case 
 would be divided into two distinct parts, one half 
 cold, and the other warm, it was necessary to carry 
 some of the mellow colours of the great group into 
 the cold part of the picture, and a part of the cold 
 into the great group; accordingly Titian gave 
 Ariadne a red scarf, and to one of the Bacchante a 
 little blue drapery. 
 
 The light of the picture, as I observed, ought to be 
 of a warm colour ; for though white may be used for 
 the principal light, as was the practice of many of 
 the Dutch and Flemish painters, yet it is better to 
 suppose that white illumined by the yellow rays of 
 the setting sun, as was the manner of Titian. The 
 superiority of which manner is never more striking, 
 than when in a collection of pictures we chance to 
 see a portrait of Titian's hanging by the side of a 
 Flemish picture (even though that should be of the 
 hand of Vandyck), which, however admirable in 
 other respects, becomes cold and grey in the com- 
 parison. 
 
 The illuminated parts of objects are in nature of a 
 warmer tint than those that are in the shade : what I 
 have recommended therefore is no more, than that 
 the same conduct be observed in the whole, which is 
 acknowledged to be necessary in every individual 
 part. It IS presenting to the eye the same effect as 
 that which it has been accustomed to feel, which in 
 this case, as in every other, will always produce 
 beauty ; no principle therefore in our art can be more 
 certain, or is derived from a higher source. 
 
 What I Just now mentioned of the supposed reason 
 why Ariadne has part of her drapery red gives me 
 occasion here to observe, that this favourite quality 
 of giving objects relief, and which De Piles and all 
 the critics have considered as a requisite of the ut- 
 most importance, was not one of those objects which 
 
 L 
 
146 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 much engaged the attention of Titian; painters of 
 an inferior rank have far exceeded him in producing 
 this effect. This was a great object of attention, 
 when art was in its infant state ; as it is at present 
 with the vulgar and ignorant, who feel the highest 
 satisfaction in seeing a figure, which, as they say, 
 looks as if they could walk round it. But however 
 low I may rate this pleasure of deception, I should 
 not oppose it, did it not oppose itself to a quality of a 
 much higher kind, by counteracting entirely that 
 fulness of manner which is so difficult to express in 
 words, but which is found in perfection in the best 
 works of Correggio, and, we may add, of Rem- 
 brandt. This effect is produced by melting and 
 losing the shadows in a ground still darker than 
 those shadows ; whereas that relief is produced by 
 opposing and separating the o-round from the figure 
 either by light, or shadow, or colour. This conduct 
 of inlaying, as it may be called, figures on their 
 ground, in order to produce relief, was the practice 
 of the old painters, such as Andrea Mantegna, Pietro 
 Perugino, and Albert Diirer ; and to these we may 
 add, the first manner of Lionardo da Vinci, 
 Giorgione, and even Correggio ; but these three were 
 among the first who began to correct themselves in 
 dryness of style, by no longer considering relief as 
 a principal object. As those two qualities, relief 
 and fulness of effect, can hardly exist together, it is 
 not very difficult to determine to which we ought to 
 give the preference. An artist is obliged for ever 
 to hold a balance in his hand, by which he must 
 determine the value of different qualities ; that, when 
 some fault must be committed, he may choose the 
 least. Those painters who have best understood 
 the art of producing a good effect, have adopted 
 one principle that seems perfectly conformable to 
 reason ; that a part may be sacrificed for the good 
 of the whole. Thus, whether the masses consist of 
 
The Eighth Discourse 147 
 
 light or shadow, it is necessary that they should be 
 compact and of a pleasing shape : to this end, some 
 parts may be made darker and some lighter, and re- 
 flections stronger than nature would warrant. Paul 
 Veronese took great liberties of this kind. It is 
 said, that being once asked, why certain figures were 
 painted in shade, as no cause was seen in the 
 picture itself, he turned off the inquiry by answering 
 
 una nuevola die passu,' ' a cloud is passing which 
 has overshadowed them. 
 
 But I cannot give a better instance of this practice 
 than a picture which I have of Rubens ; it is a repre- 
 sentation of a moonlight. Rubens has not only 
 diffused more light over the picture than is in nature, 
 but has bestowed on it those warm glowing colours 
 by which his works are so much distinguished. It 
 is so unlike what any other painters have given us 
 of moonlight, that it might be easily mistaken, if he 
 had not likewise added stars, for a fainter setting 
 sun. — Rubens thought the eye ought to be satisfied 
 in this case, above all other considerations : he might 
 indeed have made it more natural, but it would have 
 been at the expense of what he thought of much 
 greater consequence, — the harmony proceeding from 
 the contrast and variety of colours. 
 
 This same picture will furnish us with another in- 
 stance, where we must depart from nature for a 
 greater advantage. The moon in this picture does 
 not preserve so great a superiority in regard to its 
 lightness over the object which it illumines, as it 
 does in nature ; this is likewise an intended deviation, 
 and for the same reason. If Rubens had preserved 
 the same scale of gradatfon of light between 
 the moon and the objects, which is found in nature, 
 the picture must have consisted of one small spot of 
 light only, and at a little distance from the picture 
 nothing but this spot would have been seen. It may 
 be said, indeed, that this being the case, it is a sub- 
 
 L 2 
 
148 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 ject that ought not to be painted : but then, for the 
 same reason, neither armour, nor anything shining, 
 ought ever to be painted ; for though pure white is 
 used in order to represent the greatest light of 
 shining objects, it will not in the picture preserve the 
 same superiority over flesh, as it has in nature, with- 
 out keeping that flesh-colour of a very low tint. 
 Rembrandt, who thought it of more consequence to 
 paint light than the objects that are seen by it, has 
 done this in a picture of Achilles which I have. The 
 head is kept down to a very low tint, in order to 
 preserve this due gradation and distinction between 
 the armour and the face ; the consequence of which 
 is, that upon the whole the picture is too black. 
 Surely too much is sacrificed here to this narrow con- 
 ception of nature : allowing the contrary conduct a 
 fault, yet it must be acknowledged a less fault, than 
 making a picture so dark that it cannot be seen with- 
 out a peculiar light, and then with difficulty. The 
 merit or demerit of the different conduct of Rubens 
 and Rembrandt in those instances which I have 
 given, is not to be determined by the narrow prin- 
 ciples of nature, separated from its effect on the 
 human mind. Reason and common sense tell us, 
 that before, and above all other considerations, it is 
 necessary that the work should be seen, not only 
 without difficulty or inconvenience, but with pleasure 
 and satisfaction ; and every obstacle which stands 
 in the way of this pleasure and convenience must 
 be removed. 
 
 The tendency of this discourse, with the instances 
 which have been given, is not so much to place the 
 artist above rules, as to teach him their reason ; to 
 prevent him from entertaining a narrow confined 
 conception of art ; to clear his mind from a perplexed 
 variety of rules and their exceptions, by directing 
 his attention to an intimate acquaintance with the 
 passions and affections of the mind, from which all 
 
The Eighth Discourse 149 
 
 rules arise, and to which they are all referable. Art 
 effects its purpose by their means ; an accurate 
 knowledg-e therefore of those passions and disposi- 
 tions of the mind is necessary to him who desires to 
 effect them upon sure and solid principles. 
 
 A complete essay or inquiry into the connection 
 between the rules of art, and the eternal and immut- 
 able dispositions of our passions, would be indeed 
 going at once to the foundation of criticism ; ^ but I 
 am too well convinced what extensive knowledge, 
 what subtle and penetrating judgment would be re- 
 quired, to engage in such an undertaking : it is 
 enough for me, if, in the language of painters, I have 
 produced a slight sketch of a part of this vast com- 
 position, but that sufficiently distinct to show the 
 usefulness of such a theory, and its practicability. 
 
 Before I conclude, I cannot avoid making one 
 observation on the pictures now before us. I have 
 observed, that every candidate has copied the cele- 
 brated invention of Timanthes in hiding the face of 
 Agamemnon in his mantle ; indeed such lavish 
 encomiums have been bestowed on this thought, and 
 that too by men of the highest character in critical 
 knowledge, — Cicero, Quintilian, Valerius Maximus, 
 and Pliny, — and have been since re-echoed by almost 
 every modern that has written on the arts, that your 
 adopting it can neither be wondered at, nor blamed. 
 It appears now to be so much connected with the 
 subject, that the spectator would perhaps be dis- 
 appointed in not finding united in the picture what 
 he always united in his mind, and considered as in- 
 dispensably belonging to the subject. But it may 
 be observed, that those who praise this circumstance 
 were not painters. They use it as an illustration 
 only of their own art ; it served their purpose, and it 
 was certainly not their business to enter into the 
 
 1 This was inadvertently said. I did not recollect the 
 admirable treatise On the Sublime and Beautiful.*' 
 
150 The Eighth Discourse 
 
 objections that lie against it in another art. I fear 
 we have but very scanty means of exciting- those 
 powers over the imagination which make so very 
 considerable and refined a part of poetry. It is a 
 doubt with me, whether we should even make the 
 attempt. The chief, if not the only occasion which 
 the painter has for this artifice, is, when the subject 
 is improper to be more fully represented, either for 
 the sake of decency, or to avoid what would be dis- 
 agreeable to be seen ; and this is not to raise or in- 
 crease the passions, which is the reason that is given 
 for this practice, but on the contrary to diminish 
 their effect. 
 
 It is true, sketches, or such drawings as painters 
 generally make for their works, give this pleasure 
 of imagination to a high degree. From a slight un- 
 determined drawing, where the ideas of the com- 
 position and character are, as I may say, only just 
 touched upon, the imagination supplies more than 
 the painter himself, probably, could produce ; and 
 we accordingly often find that the finished work dis- 
 appoints the expectation that was raised from the 
 sketch ; and this power of the imagination is one of 
 the causes of the great pleasure we have in viewing 
 a collection of drawings by great painters. These 
 general ideas, which are expressed in sketches, cor- 
 respond very well to the art often used in poetry. 
 A great part of the beauty of the celebrated descrip- 
 tion of Eve in Milton's Paradise Losty consists in 
 using only general indistinct expressions, every 
 reader making out the detail according to his own 
 particular imagination, — his own idea of beauty, 
 grace, expression, dignity, or loveliness : but a 
 painter, when he represents Eve on a canvas, is 
 obliged to give a determined form, and his own idea 
 of beauty distinctly expressed. 
 
 We cannot on this occasion, nor indeed on any 
 other, recommend an undeterminate manner, or 
 
The Eighth Discourse 151 
 
 vague ideas of any kind, in a complete and finished 
 picture. This notion, therefore, of leaving- any- 
 thing to the imagination, opposes a very fixed and 
 indispensable rule in our art, — that everything shall 
 be carefully and distinctly expressed, as if the 
 painter knew, with correctness and precision, the 
 exact form and character of whatever is introduced 
 into the picture. This is what with us is called 
 science and learning : which must not be sacrificed 
 and given up for an uncertain and doubtful beauty, 
 which, not naturally belonging to our art, will prob- 
 ably be sought for without success. 
 
 Mr. Falconet has observed, in a note on this 
 passage in his translation of Pliny, that the circum- 
 stance of covering the face of Agamemnon was 
 probably not in consequence of any fine imagination 
 of the painter, — which he considers as a discovery 
 of the critics, — but merely copied from the descrip- 
 tion of the sacrifice, as it is found in Euripides. 
 
 The words from which the picture is supposed to 
 be taken are these : Agamemnon saw Iphigenia 
 advance towards the fatal altar; he groaned, he 
 turjied aside his head, he shed tears y and covered his 
 face with his rohe. 
 
 Falconet does not at all acquiesce in the praise that 
 is bestowed on Timanthes ; not only because it is not 
 his invention, but because he thinks meanly of this 
 trick of concealing, except in instances of blood, 
 where the objects would be too horrible to be seen ; 
 but, says he, **in an afflicted father, in a king, in 
 Agamemnon, you, who are a painter, conceal from 
 me the most interesting circumstance, and then put 
 me off with sophistry and a veil. You are (he adds) 
 **a feeble painter, without resource: you do not 
 know even those of your art : I care not what veil it 
 is, whether closed hands, arms raised, or any other 
 action that conceals from me the countenance of the 
 hero. You think of veiling Agamemnon ; you have 
 
152 The Ninth Discourse 
 
 unveiled your own ignorance. A painter who repre- 
 sents Agamemnon veiled is as ridiculous as a poet 
 would be, who in a pathetic situation, in order to 
 satisfy my expectations, and rid himself of the busi- 
 ness, should say, that the sentiments of his hero are 
 so far above whatever can be said on the occasion, 
 that he shall say nothing/* 
 
 To what Falconet has said, we may add, that 
 supposing this method of leaving the expression of 
 grief to the imagination, to be, as it was thought to 
 be, the invention of the painter, and that it deserves 
 all the praise that has been given it, still it is a trick 
 that will serve but once ; whoever does it a second 
 time will not only want novelty, but be justly sus- 
 pected of using artifice to evade difficulties. If diffi- 
 culties overcome make a great part of the merit of 
 art, difficulties evaded can deserve but little com- 
 mendation. 
 
 DISCOURSE IX 
 
 Delivered at the Opening of the Royal Academy, in Somerset 
 Place^ October 16, 1780. 
 
 On the Removal of the Royal Academy to Somerset Place. — ^ 
 The Advantages to Society from cultivating Intellectual ' 
 Pleasure. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 The honour which the arts acquire by being per- 
 mitted to take possession of this noble habitation, 
 is one of the most considerable of the many instances 
 we have received of his Majesty's protection; and 
 the strongest proof of his desire to make the 
 Academy respectable. 
 
 Nothing has been left undone, that might contri- 
 bute to excite our pursuit, or to reward our attain- 
 
The Ninth Discourse 153 
 
 ments. We have already the happiness of seeing 
 the arts in a state to which they never before arrived 
 in this nation. This building, in which we are now 
 assembled, will remain to many future ages an 
 illustrious specimen of the architect's ^ abilities. It 
 is our duty to endeavour that those who gaze with 
 wonder at the structure, may not be disappointed 
 when they visit the apartments. It will be no small 
 addition to the glory, which this nation has already 
 acquired from having given birth to eminent men 
 in every part of science, if it should be enabled to 
 produce, in consequence of this institution, a school 
 of English artists. The estimation in which we 
 stand in respect to our neighbours, will be in pro- 
 portion to the degree in which we excel or are in- 
 ferior to them in the acquisition of intellectual 
 excellence, of which trade and its consequential 
 riches must be acknowledged to give the means ; 
 but a people whose whole attention is absorbed in 
 those means, and who forget the end, can aspire but 
 little above the rank of a barbarous nation. Every 
 establishment that tends to the cultivation of the 
 pleasures of the mind, as distinct from those of 
 sense, may be considered as an inferior school of 
 morality, where the mind is polished and prepared 
 for higher attainments. 
 
 Let us for a moment take a short survey of the 
 progress of the mind towards what is, or ought to 
 be, its true object of attention. Man, in his lowest 
 state, has no pleasures but those of sense, and no 
 wants but those of appetite; afterwards, when 
 society is divided into different ranks, and some are 
 appointed to labour for the support of others, those 
 whom their superiority sets free from labour begin 
 to look for intellectual entertainments. Thus, 
 whilst the shepherds were attending their flocks, 
 their masters made the first astronomical observa- 
 * Sir William Chambers. 
 
154 The Ninth Discourse 
 
 tions ; so music is said to have had its origin from a 
 man at leisure listening- to the strokes of a hammer. 
 
 As the senses, in the lowest state of nature, are 
 necessary to direct us to our support, when that 
 support is once secure there is danger in following 
 them further ; to him who has no rule of action but 
 the gratification of the senses, plenty is always dan- 
 gerous : it is therefore necessary to the happiness 
 of individuals, and still more necessary to the 
 security of society, that the mind should be 
 elevated to the idea of general beauty, and the 
 contemplation of general truth ; by this pursuit the 
 mind is always carried forward in search of some- 
 thing more excellent than it finds, and obtains its 
 proper superiority over the common senses of life, 
 by learning to feel itself capable of higher aims and 
 nobler enjoyments. In this gradual exaltation of 
 human nature, every art contributes its contingent 
 tov/ards the general supply of mental pleasure. 
 Whatever abstracts the thoughts from sensual 
 gratifications, whatever teaches us to look for happi- 
 ness within ourselves, must advance in some mea- 
 sure the dignity of our nature. 
 
 Perhaps there is no higher proof of the excellence 
 of man than this, — that to a mind properly cultivated 
 whatever is bounded is little. The mind is con- 
 tinually labouring to advance, step by step, through 
 successive gradations of excellence, towards per- 
 fection, which is dimly seen, at a i^reat though not 
 hopeless distance, and which we must always follow 
 because we never can attain ; but the pursuit re- 
 wards itself : one truth teaches another, and our 
 store is always increasing, though nature can never 
 be exhausted. Our art, like all arts which address 
 the imagination, is applied to somewhat a lower 
 faculty of the mind, which approaches nearer to 
 sensuality; but through sense and fancy it must 
 make its way to reason ; for such is the progress of 
 
The Ninth Discourse 155 
 
 thought, that we perceive by sense, we combine by 
 fancy, and distinguish by reason : and without carry- 
 ing our art out of its natural and true character, the 
 more we purify it from everything that is gross in 
 sense, in that proportion we advance its use and 
 dignity ; and in proportion as we lower it to mere 
 sensuality, we pervert its nature, and degrade it 
 from the rank of a liberal art ; and this is what every 
 artist ought well to remember. Let him remember 
 also, that he deserves just so much encouragement 
 in the State as he makes himself a member of it 
 virtuously useful, and contributes in his sphere to 
 the general purpose and perfection of society. 
 
 The art which we profess has beauty for its object ; 
 this it is our business to discover and to express ; 
 the beauty of which we are in quest is general and 
 intellectual; it is an idea that subsists only in the 
 mind ; the sight never beheld it, nor has the hand 
 expressed it : it is an idea residing in the breast of 
 the artist, which he is always labouring to impart, 
 and which he dies at last without imparting ; but 
 which he is yet so far able to communicate, as to 
 raise the thoughts, and extend the views of the spec- 
 tator ; and which, by a succession of art, may be so 
 far diffused, that its effects may extend themselves 
 imperceptibly into public benefits, and be among the 
 means of bestowing on whole nations refinement of 
 taste : which, if it does not lead directly to purity of 
 manners, obviates at least their greatest deprava- 
 tion, by disentangling the mind from appetite, and 
 conducting the thoughts through successive stages 
 of excellence, till that contemplation of universal 
 rectitude and harmony which began by taste may, 
 as it is exalted and refined, conclude in virtue. 
 
156 The Tenth Discourse 
 
 DISCOURSE X 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy^ on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December 11, 1780. 
 
 Sculpture : — Has but One Style. — Its Objects, Form, and 
 Character. — Ineffectual Attempts of the Modern Sculptors 
 to improve the Art. — 111 Effects of Modern Dress in 
 Sculpture. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 I SHALL now, as it has been customary on this day, 
 and on this occasion, communicate to you such 
 observations as have occurred to me on the theory of 
 art. 
 
 If these observations have hitherto referred prin- 
 cipally to painting, let it be remembered that this 
 art is much more extensive and complicated than 
 sculpture, and affords therefore a more ample field 
 for criticism ; and as the greater includes the less, 
 the leading principles of sculpture are comprised in 
 those of painting. 
 
 However, I wish now to make some remarks with 
 particular relation to sculpture ; to consider wherein, 
 or in what manner, its principles and those of paint- 
 ing agree or differ ; what is within its power of per- 
 forming, and what it is vain or improper to attempt ; 
 that it may be clearly and distinctly known what 
 ought to be the great purpose of the sculptor's 
 labours. 
 
 Sculpture is an art of much more simplicity and 
 uniformity than painting ; it cannot with propriety, 
 and the best effect, be applied to many subjects. 
 The object of its pursuit may be comprised in two 
 words, form and character; and those qualities are 
 presented to us but in one manner, or in one style 
 only ; whereas the powers of painting, as they are 
 more various and extensive, so they are exhibited 
 
The Tenth Discourse 157 
 
 in as great a variety of manners. The Roman, 
 Lombard, Florentine, Venetian, and Flemish 
 schools, all pursue the same end by different means. 
 But sculpture, having but one style, can only to one 
 style of painting have any relation ; and to this 
 (which is indeed the highest and most dignified that 
 painting can boast) it has a relation so close, that 
 it may be said to be almost the same art operating 
 upon different materials. The sculptors of the last 
 age, from not attending sufficiently to this dis- 
 crimination of the different styles of paintmg, have 
 been led into many errors. Though they well knew 
 that they were allowed to imitate, or take ideas for 
 the improvement of their own art from the grand 
 style of painting, they were not aware that it was not 
 permitted to borrow in the same manner from the 
 ornamental. When they endeavour to copy the 
 picturesque effects, contrasts, or petty excellences 
 of whatever kind, which not improperly find a place 
 in the inferior branches of painting, they doubtless 
 imagine themselves improving and extending the 
 boundaries of their art by this imitation ; but they are 
 in reality violating its essential character, by giving 
 a different direction to its operations, and proposing 
 to themselves either what is unattainable, or at best 
 a meaner object of pursuit. The erave and austere 
 character of sculpture requires the utmost degree of 
 formality in composition ; picturesque contrasts have 
 here no place ; everything is carefully weighed and 
 measured, one side making almost an exact equi- 
 poise to the other : a child is not a proper balance to 
 a full-grown figure, nor is a figure sitting or stooping 
 a companion to an upright figure. 
 
 The excellence of every art must consist in the 
 complete accomplishment of its purpose ; and if by a 
 false imitation of nature, or mean ambition of pro- 
 ducing a picturesque effect or illusion of any kind, 
 all the grandeur of ideas which this art endeavours 
 
158 The Tenth Discourse 
 
 to excite be degraded or destroyed, we may boldly 
 oppose ourselves to any such innovation. If the 
 producing- of a deception is the summit of this art, 
 let us at once give to statues the addition of colour ; 
 which will contribute more towards accomplishing 
 this end, than all those artifices which have been 
 introduced and professedly defended, on no other 
 principle but that of rendering the work more 
 natural. But as colour is universally rejected, every 
 practice liable to the same objection must fall with it. 
 If the business of sculpture were to administer plea- 
 sure to ignorance, or a mere entertainment to the 
 senses, the Venus of Medicis might certainly receive 
 much improvement by colour ; but the character of 
 sculpture makes it her duty to afford delight of a 
 different, and, perhaps, of a higher kind ; the delight 
 resulting from the contemplation of perfect beauty : 
 and this, which is in truth an intellectual pleasure, is 
 in many respects incompatible with what is merely 
 addressed to the senses, such as that with which 
 ignorance and levity contemplate elegance of form. 
 
 The sculptor may be safely allowed to practise 
 every means within the power of his art to produce 
 a deception, provided this practice does not inter- 
 fere with or destroy higher excellences ; on these 
 conditions he will be forced, however loth, to ac- 
 knowledge that the boundaries of his art have long 
 been fixed, and that all endeavours will be vain that 
 hope to pass beyond the best works which remain of 
 ancient sculpture. 
 
 Imitation is the means, and not the end, of art; 
 it is employed by the sculptor as the language by 
 which his ideas are presented to the mind of the 
 spectator. Poetry and elocution of every sort make 
 use of signs, but those signs are arbitrary and con- 
 ventional. The sculptor ernploys the representa- 
 tion of the thing itself ; but still as a means to a 
 higher end, — as a gradual ascent always advancing 
 
The Tenth Discourse 1 59 
 
 towards faultless form and perfect beauty. It may 
 be thought at the first view, that even this form, 
 however perfectly represented, is to be valued and 
 take its rank only for the sake of a still higher 
 object, that of conveying sentiment and character, 
 as they are exhibited by attitude, and expression of 
 the passions. But we are sure from experience, that 
 the beauty of form alone, without the assistance of 
 any other quality, makes of itself a great work, and 
 justly claims our esteem and admiration. As a proof 
 of the high value we set on the mere excellence of 
 form, we may produce the greatest part of the works 
 of Michael Angelo, both in painting and sculpture ; 
 as well as most of the antique statues, which are 
 justly esteemed in a very high degree, though no 
 very marked or striking character or expression of 
 any kind is represented. 
 
 But, as a stronger instance that this excellence 
 alone inspires sentiment, what artist ever looked at 
 the Torso without feeling a warmth of enthusiasm, 
 as from the highest efforts of poetry ? From whence 
 does this proceed? What is there in this fragment 
 that produces this effect, but the perfection of this 
 science of abstract form? 
 
 A mind elevated to the contemplation of excellence 
 perceives in this defaced and shattered fragment, 
 disjecti membra poetcBy the traces of superlative 
 genius, the relics of a work on which succeeding 
 ages can only gaze with inadequate admiration. 
 
 It may be said that this pleasure is reserved only 
 to those who have spent their whole life in the study 
 and contemplation of this art; but the truth is, that 
 all would feel its effects, if they could divest them- 
 selves of the expectation of deception^ and look only 
 for what it really is, a partial representation of 
 nature. The only impediment of their judgm.ent 
 must then proceed from their being uncertain to 
 what rank, or rather kind of excellence, it aspires ; 
 
i6o The Tenth Discourse 
 
 and to what sort of approbation it has a right. This 
 state of darkness is, without doubt, irksome to 
 every mind ; but by attention to works of this kind 
 the knowledge of what is aimed at comes of itself, 
 without being taught, and almost without being 
 perceived. 
 
 The sculptor's art is limited in comparison of 
 others, but it has its variety and intricacy within its 
 proper bounds. Its essence is correctness : and 
 when to correct and perfect form is added the orna- 
 ment of grace, dignity of character, and appro- 
 priated expression, as in the Apollo, the Venus, the 
 Laocoon, the Moses of Michael Angelo, and many 
 others, this art may be said to have accomplished 
 its purpose. 
 
 What grace is, how it is to be acquired or con- 
 ceived, are in speculation difficult questions; but 
 causa lately res est notissima : without any perplex- 
 ing inquiry, the effect is hourly perceived. I shall 
 only observe, that its natural foundation is correct- 
 ness of design ; and though grace may be some- 
 times united with incorrectness, it cannot proceed 
 from it. 
 
 But to come nearer to our present subject. It has 
 been said that the grace of the Apollo depends on a 
 certain degree of incorrectness ; that the head is not 
 anatomically placed between the shoulders ; and that 
 the lower half of the figure is longer than just pro- 
 portion allows. 
 
 I know that Correggio and Parmegiano are often 
 produced as authorities to support this opinion ; but 
 very little attention will convince us, that the in- 
 correctness of some parts which we find in their 
 works, does not contribute to grace, but rather tends 
 to destroy it. The Madonna, with the sleeping In- 
 fant, and beautiful group of angels, by Parmegiano, 
 in the Palazzo Piti, would not have lost any of its 
 excellence, if the neck, fingers, and indeed the whole 
 
The Tenth Discourse i6i 
 
 figure of the Virgin, instead of being so very long 
 and incorrect, had preserved their due proportion. 
 
 In opposition to the first of these remarks, I have 
 the authority of a very able sculptor of this 
 Academy, who has copied that figure, consequently 
 measured and carefully examined it, to declare, that 
 the criticism is not true. In regard to the last, it 
 must be remembered, that Apollo is here in the 
 exertion of one of his peculiar powers, which is 
 swiftness ; he has therefore that proportion which 
 is best adapted to that character. This is no more 
 incorrectness than when there is given to a Her- 
 cules an extraordinary swelling and strength of 
 muscles. 
 
 The art of discovering and expressing grace is 
 difficult enough of itself, without perplexing our- 
 selves with what is incomprehensible. A supposi- 
 tion of such a monster as grace, begot by deformity, 
 is poison to the mind of a young artist, and may 
 make him neglect what is essential to his art, cor- 
 rectness of design, in order to pursue a phantom, 
 which has no existence but in the imagination of 
 affected and refined speculators. 
 
 I cannot quit the Apollo without making one 
 observation on the character of this figure. He is 
 supposed to have just discharged his arrow at the 
 python ; and, by the head retreating a little towards 
 the right shoulder, he appears attentive to its effect. 
 What I would remark, is the difference of this atten- 
 tion from that of the Discobolus, who is engaged in 
 the same purpose, watching the effect of his discus. 
 The graceful, negligent, though animated, air of the 
 one, and the vulgar eagerness of the other, furnish 
 a signal instance of the judgment of the ancient 
 sculptors in their nice discrimination of character. 
 They are both equally true to nature, and equally 
 admirable. 
 
 It may be remarked that grace, character, and 
 
 M 
 
1 62 The Tenth Discourse 
 
 expression, though words of different sense and 
 meaning, and so understood when applied to the 
 works of painters, are indiscriminately used when 
 we speak of sculpture. This indecision we may 
 suspect to proceed from the undetermined effects of 
 the art itself ; those qualities are exhibited in sculp- 
 ture rather by form and attitude than by the features, 
 and can therefore be expressed but in a very general 
 manner. 
 
 Though the Laocoon and his two sons have more 
 expression in the countenance than perhaps any 
 other antique statues, yet it is only the general ex- 
 pression of pain ; and this passion is still more 
 strongly expressed by the writhing and contortion of 
 the body than by the features. 
 
 It has been observed in a late publication, that if 
 the attention of the father in this group had been 
 occupied more by the distress of his children, than 
 by his own sufferings, it would have raised a much 
 greater interest in the spectator. Though this ob- 
 servation comes from a person whose opinion, in 
 everything relating to the arts, carries with it the 
 highest authority, yet I cannot but suspect that such 
 refined expression is scarce within the province of 
 this art; and in attempting it, the artist will run 
 great risk of enfeebling expression, and making it 
 less intelligible to the spectator. 
 
 As the general figure presents itself in a more 
 conspicuous manner than the features, it is there 
 we must principally look for expression or char- 
 acter; pafuit in corpore vultus ; and, in this respect, 
 the sculptor's art is not unlike that of dancing, 
 where the attention of the spectator is principally 
 engaged by the attitude and action of the performer ; 
 and it is there he must look for whatever expression 
 that art is capable of exhibiting. The dancers them- 
 selves acknowledge this, by often wearing masks, 
 with little diminution in the expression. The face 
 
The Tenth Discourse 163 
 
 bears so very inconsiderable a proportion to the 
 effect of the whole figure, that the ancient sculptors 
 neglected to animate the features, even with the 
 general expression of the passions. Of this the group 
 of the Boxers is a remarkable instance ; they are en- 
 gaged in the most animated action with the greatest 
 serenity of countenance. This is not recommended 
 for imitation (for there can be no reason why the 
 countenance should not correspond with the attitude 
 and expression of the figure), but is mentioned in 
 order to infer from hence, that this frequent 
 deficiency in ancient sculpture could proceed from 
 nothing but a habit of inattention to what was con- 
 sidered as comparatively immaterial. 
 
 Those who think sculpture can express more than 
 we have allowed, may ask, by what means we dis- 
 cover, at the first glance, the character that is repre- 
 sented in a bust, cameo, or intaglio? I suspect it 
 will be found, on close examination, by him who is 
 resolved not to see more than he really does see, that 
 the figures are distinguished by their insignia more 
 than by any variety of form or beauty. Take from 
 Apollo his lyre, from Bacchus his thyrsus and vine- 
 leaves, and Meleager the board's head, and there 
 will remain little or no difference in their characters. 
 In a Juno, Minerva, or Flora, the idea of the artist 
 seems to have gone no further than representing 
 perfect beauty, and afterwards adding the proper 
 attributes, with a total indifference to which they 
 gave them. Thus John De Bologna, after he had 
 finished a group of a young man holding up a 
 young woman in his arms, with an old man at his 
 feet, called his friends together, to tell him what 
 name he should give it, and it was agreed to call it 
 The Rape of the Sabines ;^ and this is the celebrated 
 group which now stands before the old Palace at 
 Florence. The figures have the same general ex- 
 * See II reposo di Raffaelle Borghini." 
 
 M 2 
 
164 The Tenth Discourse 
 
 pression which is to be found in most of the antique 
 sculpture; and yet it would be no wonder if future 
 critics should find out delicacy of expression which 
 was never intended ; and go so far as to see, in the 
 old man's countenance, the exact relation which he 
 bore to the woman who appears to be taken from 
 him. 
 
 Though painting and sculpture are, like many 
 other arts, governed by the same general principles, 
 yet in the detail, or what may be called the by-laws 
 of each art, there seems to be no longer any con- 
 nection between them. The different materials upon 
 which those two arts exert their powers must in- 
 fallibly create a proportional difference in their 
 practice. There are many petty excellences which 
 the painter attains with ease, but which are im- 
 practicable in sculpture; and which, even if it could 
 accomplish them, would add nothing to the true 
 value and dignity of the w^ork. 
 
 Of the ineffectual attempts which the modern 
 sculptors have made by way of improvement, these 
 seem to be the principal ; The practice of detaching 
 drapery from the figure, in order to give the appear- 
 ance of flying in the air ; 
 
 Of making different plans in the same bas- 
 relievos ; 
 
 Of attempting to represent the effects of per- 
 spective : — 
 
 To these we may add the ill effect of figures 
 clothed in a modern dress. 
 
 The folly of attempting to make stone sport and 
 flutter in the air is so apparent, that it carries with 
 it its own reprehension ; and yet to accomplish this 
 seemed to be the great ambition of many modern 
 sculptors, particularly Bernini : his heart was so 
 much set on overcoming this diflficulty, that he was 
 for ever attempting it, though by that attempt he 
 risked everything that was valuable in the art. 
 
The Tenth Discourse 165 
 
 Bernini stands in the first class of modern sculp- 
 tors, and therefore it is the business of criticism 
 to prevent the ill effects of so powerful an example. 
 
 From his very early work of Apollo and Daphne, 
 the world justly expected he would rival the best 
 productions of ancient Greece ; but he soon strayed 
 from the right path. And though there is in his 
 works something which always distinguishes him 
 from the common herd, yet he appears in his latter 
 performances to have lost his way. Instead of pur- 
 suing the study of that ideal beauty with which he 
 had so successfully begun, he turned his mind to an 
 injudicious quest of novelty ; attempted what was 
 not within the province of the art, and endeavoured 
 to overcome the hardness and obstinacy of his 
 materials ; which even supposing he had accom- 
 plished, so far as to make this species of drapery 
 appear natural, the ill effect and confusion occa- 
 sioned by its being detached from the figure to which 
 it belongs, ought to have been alone a sufficient 
 reason to have deterred him from that practice. 
 
 We have not, I think, in our Academy, any of 
 Bernini *s works, except a cast of the head of his 
 Neptune;^ this will be sufficient to serve us for an 
 example of the mischief produced by this attempt 
 of representing the effects of the wind. The locks 
 of the hair are flying abroad in all directions, inso- 
 much that it is not a superficial view that can 
 discover what the object is which is represented, or 
 distinguish those flying locks from the features, as 
 they are all of the same colour, of equal solidity, and 
 consequently project with equal force. 
 
 The same entangled confusion which is here 
 
 ^ Some years after this Discourse was written, Bernini's 
 Neptune was purchased for our author at Rome, and 
 brought to England. After his death it was sold by his 
 Executors for ;^5oo to Charles Anderson Pelham, Esq., now 
 Lord Yarborough. M. 
 
1 66 The Tenth Discourse 
 
 occasioned by the hair is produced by drapery flying 
 off ; which the eye must, for the same reason, 
 inevitably mingle and confound with the principal 
 parts of the figure. 
 
 It is a general rule, equally true in both arts, that 
 the form and attitude of the figure should be seen 
 clearly, and without any ambiguity, at the first 
 glance of the eye. This the painter can easily do 
 by colour, by losing parts in the ground, or keeping 
 them so obscure as to prevent them from interfering 
 with the more principal objects. The sculptor has 
 no other means of preventing this confusion than by 
 attaching the drapery for the greater part close to 
 the figure ; the folds of which following the order of 
 the limbs, whenever the drapery is seen, the eye is 
 led to trace the form and attitude of the figure at 
 the same time. 
 
 The drapery of the Apollo, though it makes a 
 large mass, and is separated from the figure, does 
 not affect the present question, from the very cir- 
 cumstance of its being so completely separated ; and 
 from the regularity and simplicity of its form, it 
 does not in the least interfere with a distinct view 
 of the figure. In reality, it is no more a part of it 
 than a pedestal, a trunk of a tree, or an animal, 
 which we often see joined to statues. 
 
 The principal use of those appendages is to 
 strengthen and preserve the statue from accidents ; 
 and many are of opinion that the mantle which falls 
 from the Apollo's arm is for the same end ; but surely 
 it answers a much greater purpose, by preventing 
 that dryness of effect which would inevitably attend 
 a naked arm, extended almost at full length; to 
 which we may add, the disagreeable effect which 
 would proceed from the body and arm making a 
 right angle. 
 
 The Apostles, in the church of St. John Lateran, 
 appear to me to fall under the censure of an in- 
 
The Tenth Discourse 167 
 
 judicious imitation of the manner of the painters. 
 The drapery of those figures, from being disposed 
 in large masses, gives undoubtedly that air of 
 grandeur which magnitude or quantity is sure to 
 produce. But though it should be acknowledged 
 that it is managed with great skill and intelligence, 
 and contrived to appear as light as the materials will 
 allow, yet the weight and solidity of stone was not 
 to be overcome. 
 
 Those figures are much in the style of Carlo 
 Maratti, and such as we may imagine he would have 
 made, if he had attempted sculpture ; and when we 
 know he had the superintendence of that work, and 
 was an intimate friend of one of the principal sculp- 
 tors, we may suspect that his taste had some in- 
 fluence, if he did not even give the designs. No 
 man can look at those figures without recognising 
 the manner of Carlo Maratti. They have the same 
 defect vv^hich his works so often have, of being over- 
 loaded with drapery, and that too artificially dis- 
 posed. I cannot but believe, that if Ruscono, Le 
 Gros, Monot, and the rest of the sculptors employed 
 in that work, had taken for their guide the simple 
 dress, such as we see in the antique statues of the 
 philosophers, it would have given more real grandeur 
 to their figures, and would certainly have been more 
 suitable to the characters of the Apostles. 
 
 Though there is no remedy for the ill effect of 
 those solid projections which flying drapery in stone 
 must always produce in statues, yet in basso- 
 relievos it is totally different; those detached parts 
 of drapery the sculptor has here as much power 
 over as the painter, by uniting and losing it in the 
 ground, so that it shall not in the least entangle and 
 confuse the figure. 
 
 But here again the sculptor, not content with this 
 successful imitation, if it may be so called, proceeds 
 to represent figures or groups of figures on different 
 
1 68 The Tenth Discourse 
 
 plans ; that is, some on the foreground, and some at 
 a greater distance, in the manner of painters in 
 historical compositions. To do this he has no other 
 means than by making the distant figures of less 
 dimensions, and relieving them in a less degree 
 from the surface; but this is not adequate to the 
 end ; they will still appear only as figures on a less 
 scale, but equally near the eye with those in the front 
 of the piece. 
 
 Nor does the mischief of this attempt, which never 
 accomplishes its intention, rest here : by this divi- 
 sion of the work into many minute parts, the 
 grandeur of its general effect is inevitably destroyed. 
 
 Perhaps the only circumstance in which the 
 modern have excelled the ancient sculptors is the 
 management of a single group in basso-relievo ; the 
 art of gradually raising the group from the flat 
 surface, till it imperceptibly emerges into alto- 
 relievo. Of this there is no ancient example re- 
 maining that discovers any approach to the skill 
 which Le Gros has shown in an altar in the Jesuits' 
 Church at Rome. Different plans or degrees of re- 
 lief in the same group have, as we see in this in- 
 stance, a good effect, though the contrary happens 
 when the groups are separated, and are at some 
 distance behind each other. 
 
 This improvement in the art of composing a 
 group in basso-relievo was probably first suggested 
 by the practice of the modern painters, who relieve 
 their figures, or groups of figures, from their 
 ground, by the same gentle gradation ; and it is 
 accomplished in every respect by the same general 
 principles; but as the marble has no colour, it is 
 the composition itself that must give it its light and 
 shadow. The ancient sculptors could not borrow 
 this advantage from their painters, for this was an 
 art with which they appear to have been entirely un- 
 
The Tenth Discourse 169 
 
 acquainted ; and in the basso-relievos of Lorenzo 
 Ghiberti, the casts of which we have in the 
 Academy, this art is no more attempted than it was 
 by the painters of his age. 
 
 The next imaginary improvement of the moderns 
 is the representing the effects of perspective in bas- 
 relief. Of this Httle need be said ; all must recollect 
 how ineffectual has been the attempt of modern 
 sculptors to turn the buildings which they have intro- 
 duced as seen from their angle, with a view to 
 make them appear to recede from the eye in per- 
 spective. This, though it may show indeed their 
 eager desire to encounter difficulties, shows at the 
 same time how inadequate their materials are even 
 to this their humble ambition. 
 
 The ancients, with great judgment, represented 
 only the elevation of whatever architecture they in- 
 troduced into their bas-reliefs, which is composed of 
 little more than horizontal or perpendicular lines ; 
 whereas the interruption of crossed lines, or what- 
 ever causes a multiplicity of subordinate parts, 
 destroys that regularity and firmness of effect on 
 which grandeur of style so much depends. 
 
 We come now to the last consideration ; in what 
 manner statues are to be dressed, which are made 
 in honour of men, either now living, or lately de- 
 parted. 
 
 This is a question which might employ a long 
 discourse of itself : I shall at present only observe, 
 that he who wishes not to obstruct the artist, and 
 prevent his exhibiting his abilities to their greatest 
 advantage, will certainly not desire a modern dress. 
 
 The desire of transmitting to posterity the shape 
 of modern dress must be acknowledged to be pur- 
 chased at a prodigious price, even the price of every- 
 thing that is valuable in art. 
 
 Working in stone is a very serious business ; and 
 
lyo The Tenth Discourse 
 
 it seems to be scarce worth while to employ such 
 durable materials in conveying- to posterity a fashion 
 of which the longest existence scarce exceeds a year. 
 
 However agreeable it may be to the antiquary's 
 principles of equity and gratitude, that as he has 
 received great pleasure from the contemplation of 
 the fashions of dress of former ages, he wishes to 
 give the same satisfaction to future antiquaries : yet 
 methinks pictures of an inferior style, or prints, 
 may be considered as quite sufficient, without prosti- 
 tuting this great art to such mean purposes. 
 
 In this town may be seen an equestrian statue in 
 a modern dress, which may be sufficient to deter 
 future artists from any such attempt : even sup- 
 posing no other objection, the familiarity of the 
 modern dress by no means agrees with the dignity 
 and gravity of sculpture. 
 
 Sculpture is formal, regular, and austere ; dis- 
 dains all familiar objects, as incompatible with its 
 dignity; and is an enemy to every species of affec- 
 tation, or appearance of academical art. All con- 
 trast, therefore, of one figure to another, or of the 
 limbs of a single figure, or even in the folds of the 
 drapery, must be sparingly employed. In short, 
 whatever partakes of fancy or caprice, or goes 
 under the denomination of picturesque (however to 
 be admired in its proper place), is incompatible with 
 that sobriety and gravity which is peculiarly the 
 characteristic of this art. 
 
 There is no circumstance which more distin- 
 guishes a well-regulated and sound taste, than a 
 settled uniformity of design, where all the parts are 
 compact, and fitted to each other, everything being 
 of a piece. This principle extends itself to all 
 habits of life, as well as to all works of art. Upon 
 this general ground therefore we may safely venture 
 to pronounce, that the uniformity and simplicity of 
 
The Eleventh Discourse 171 
 
 the materials on which the sculptor labours (which 
 are only white marble) prescribes bounds to his art, 
 and teaches him to confine himself to a proportion- 
 able simplicity of design. 
 
 DISCOURSE XI 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December lo, 1782. 
 
 Genius. — Consists principally in the Comprehension of a 
 whole ; in taking General Ideas only. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 The hig-hest ambition of every artist is to be 
 thought a man of genius. As long as this flattering 
 quality is joined to his name, he can bear with 
 patience the imputation of carelessness, incorrect- 
 ness, or defects of whatever kind. 
 
 So far indeed is the presence of genius from im- 
 plying an absence of faults, that they are con- 
 sidered by many as its inseparable companions. 
 Some go such lengths as to take indication from 
 them, and not only excuse faults on account of 
 genius, but presume genius from the existence of 
 certain faults. 
 
 It is certainly true, that a work may justly claim 
 the character of genius, though full of errors ; and 
 it is equally true, that it may be faultless, and yet 
 not exhibit the least spark of genius. This natur- 
 ally suggests an inquiry, a desire at least of inquir- 
 ing, what qualities of a work and of a workman may 
 justly entitle a painter to that character. 
 
 I have in a former discourse^ endeavoured to im- 
 press you with a fixed opinion, that a comprehensive 
 
 * Discourse III. 
 
172 The Eleventh Discourse 
 
 and critical knowledge of the works of nature is the 
 only source of beauty and grandeur. But when we 
 speak to painters, we must always consider this 
 rule, and all rules, with a reference to the mechani- 
 cal practice of their own particular art. It is not 
 properly in the learning, the taste, and the dignity 
 of the ideas, that genius appears as belonging to a 
 painter. There is a genius particular and appro- 
 priated to his own trade (as I may call it) distin- 
 guished from all others. For that power, which 
 enables the artist to conceive his subject with dig- 
 nity, may be said to belong to general education; 
 and is as much the genius of a poet, or the professor 
 of any other liberal art, or even a good critic in any 
 of those arts, as of a painter. Whatever sublime 
 ideas may fill his mind, he is a painter only as he an 
 put in practice what he knows, and communicate 
 those ideas by visible representation. 
 
 If my expression can convey my idea, I wish to 
 distinguish excellence of this kind by calling it the 
 genius of mechanical performance. This genius 
 consists, I conceive, in the power of expressing that 
 which employs your pencil, whatever it may be, as 
 a whole ; so that the general effect and power of the 
 whole may take possession of the mind, and for a 
 while suspend the consideration of the subordinate 
 and particular beauties or defects. 
 
 The advantage of this method of considering ob- 
 jects is what I wish now more particularly to en- 
 force. At the same time I do not forget, that a 
 painter must have the power of contracting as well 
 as dilating his sight; because, he that does not at 
 all express particulars, expresses nothing; yet it is 
 certain, that a nice discrimination of minute cir- 
 cumstances, and a punctilious delineation of them, 
 whatever excellence it may have (and I do not mean 
 to detract from it), never did confer on the artist the 
 character of genius. 
 
The Eleventh Discourse 173 
 
 Besides those minute differences in things which 
 are frequently not observed at all, and when they 
 are, make httle impression, there are in all consider- 
 able objects g-reat characteristic distinctions, which 
 press strongly on the senses, and therefore fix the 
 imagination. These are by no means, as some per- 
 sons think, an aggregate of all the small discrim- 
 inating particulars : nor will such an accumulation 
 of particulars ever express them. These answer to 
 what I have heard great lawyers call the leading 
 points in a case or the leading cases relative to 
 those points. 
 
 The detail of particulars, which does not assist 
 the expression of the main characteristic, is worse 
 than useless ; it is mischievous, as it dissipates the 
 attention, and draws it from the principal point. It 
 may be remarked, that the impression which is left 
 on our mind, even of things which are familiar to 
 us, is seldom more than their general effect ; be- 
 yond which we do not look in recognising such ob- 
 jects. To express this in painting is to express 
 what is congenial and natural to the mind of man, 
 and what gives him by reflection his own mode of 
 conceiving. The other presupposes nicety and re- 
 search, which are only the business of the curious 
 and attentive, and therefore does not speak to the 
 general sense of the whole species ; in which com- 
 mon, and, as I may so call it, mother tongue, every 
 thing grand and comprehensive must be uttered. 
 
 I do not mean to prescribe what degree of atten- 
 tion ought to be paid to the minute parts ; this it is 
 hard to settle. We are sure that it is expressing 
 the general effect of the whole, which alone can give 
 to objects their true and touching character ; and 
 wherever this is observed, whatever else may be 
 neglected, we acknowledge the hand of a master. 
 We may even go further, and observe, that when 
 the general effect only is presented to us by a skilful 
 
174 The Eleventh Discourse 
 
 hand, it appears to express the object represented 
 in a more lively manner than the minutest resem- 
 blance would do. 
 
 These observations may lead to very deep ques- 
 tions, which I do not mean here to discuss; among 
 others, it may lead to an inquiry, why we are not 
 always pleased with the most absolute possible 
 resemblance of an imitation to its original object. 
 Cases may exist in which such a resemblance may 
 be even disagreeable. I shall only observe that the 
 effect of figures in waxwork, though certainly a 
 more exact representation than can be given by 
 painting or sculpture, is a sufficient proof that the 
 pleasure we receive from imitation is not increased 
 merely in proportion as it approaches to minute and 
 detailed reality; we are pleased, on the contrary, 
 by seeing ends accomplished by seemingly inade- 
 quate means. 
 
 To express protuberance by actual relief, to ex- 
 press the softness of flesh by the softness of wax, 
 seems rude and inartificial, and creates no grateful 
 surprise. But to express distances on a plain sur- 
 face, softness by hard bodies, and particular colour- 
 ing by materials which are not singly of that colour, 
 produces that magic which is the prize and triumph 
 of art. 
 
 Carry this principle a step further. Suppose the 
 effect of imitation to be fully compassed by means 
 still more inadequate ; let the power of a few well- 
 chosen strokes, which supersede labour by judg- 
 ment and direction, produce a complete impression 
 of all that the mind demands in an object; we are 
 charmed with such an unexpected happiness of 
 execution, and begin to be tired with the super- 
 fluous diligence, which in vain solicits an appetite 
 already satiated. 
 
 The properties of all objects, as far as a painter is 
 concerned with them, are the outline or drawing, 
 
The Eleventh Discourse 175 
 
 the colour, and the light and shade. The drawing 
 gives the form, the colour its visible quality, and 
 the light and shade its solidity. 
 
 Excellence in any one of these parts of art will 
 never be acquired by an artist, unless he has the 
 habit of looking upon objects at large, and observ- 
 ing the effect which they have on the eye when it is 
 dilated, and employed upon the whole, without see- 
 ing any one of the parts distinctly. It is by this that 
 we obtain the ruling characteristic, and that we 
 learn to imitate it by short and dextrous methods. 
 I do not mean by dexterity a trick or mechanical 
 habit, formed by guess, and established by custom ; 
 but that science, which, by a profound knowledge 
 of ends and means, discovers the shortest and 
 surest way to its own purpose. 
 
 If we examine with a critical view the manner 
 of those painters whom we consider as patterns, we 
 shall find that their great fame does not proceed 
 from their works being more highly finished than 
 those of other artists, or from a more minute at- 
 tention to details, but from that enlarged compre- 
 hension which sees the whole object at once, and 
 that energy of art which gives its characteristic 
 effect by adequate expression. 
 
 Raffaelle and Titian are two names which stand 
 the highest in our art; one for drawing, the other 
 for painting. The most considerable and the most 
 esteemed works of Raffaelle are the cartoons and 
 his fresco works in the Vatican ; those, as we all 
 know, are far from being minutely finished : his 
 principal care and attention seems to have been 
 fixed upon the adjustment of the whole, whether it 
 was the general composition, or the composition of 
 each individual figure; for every figure may be said 
 to be a lesser whole, though in regard to the general 
 work to which it belongs, it is but a part; the same 
 may be said of the head, of the hands, and feet. 
 
176 The Eleventh Discourse 
 
 Though he possessed this art of seeing and com- 
 prehending the whole, as far as form is concerned, 
 he did not exert the same faculty in regard to the 
 general effect, which is presented to the eye by 
 colour, and light and shade. Of this the deficiency 
 of his oil pictures, where this excellence is more 
 expected than in fresco, is a sufficient proof. 
 
 It is to Titian we must turn our eyes to find ex- 
 cellence with regard to colour, and light and shade, 
 in the highest degree. He was both the first and 
 the greatest master of this art. By a few strokes 
 he knew how to mark the general image and 
 character of whatever object he attempted ; and 
 produced, by this alone, a truer representation than 
 his master Giovanni Bellini, or any of his predeces- 
 sors, who finished every hair. His great care was 
 to express the general colour, to preserve the masses 
 of light and shade, and to give by opposition the 
 idea of that solidity which is inseparable from 
 natural objects. When those are preserved, though 
 the work should possess no other merit, it will have 
 in a proper place its complete effect ; but where any 
 of these are wanting, however minutely laboured 
 the picture may be in the detail, the whole will have 
 a false and even an unfinished appearance, at what- 
 ever distance, or in whatever light, it can be shown. 
 
 It is vain to attend to the variation of tints, if, in 
 that attention, the general hue of flesh is lost; or 
 to finish ever so minutely the parts, if the masses 
 are not observed, or the whole not well put together. 
 
 Vasari seems to have had no great disposition to 
 favour the Venetian painters, yet he everywhere 
 justly commends il modo di fare, la maniera, la hella 
 pratica; that is, the admirable manner and prac- 
 tice of that school. On Titian, in particular, he 
 bestows the epithets of giudicioso, hello y e 
 stupendo. 
 
 This manner was then new to the world, but that 
 
The Eleventh Discourse 177 
 
 unshaken truth on which it is founded, has fixed 
 it as a model to all succeeding- painters : and those 
 who will examine into the artifice, will find it to 
 consist in the power of g^eneralising, and in the 
 shortness and simplicity of the means employed. 
 
 Many artists, as Vasari likewise observes, have 
 ignorantly imagined they are imitating the manner 
 of Titian, when they leave their colours rough, and 
 neglect the detail ; but, not possessing the prin- 
 ciples on which he wrought, they have produced 
 what he calls goffe pitture^ absurd foolish pictures ; 
 for such will always be the consequence of affecting 
 dexterity without science, without selection, and 
 without fixed principles. 
 
 Raffaelle and Titian seem to have looked at nature 
 for different purposes ; they both had the power of 
 extending their view to the whole ; but one looked 
 only for the general effect as produced by form, 
 the other as produced by colour. 
 
 We cannot entirely refuse to Titian the merit of 
 attending to the general form of his object, as well 
 as colour; but his deficiency lay, a deficiency at 
 least when he is compared with Raffaelle, in not 
 possessing the power, like him, of correcting the 
 form of his model by any general idea of beauty in 
 his own mind. Of this his St. Sebastian is a par- 
 ticular instance. This figure appears to be a most 
 exact representation both of the form and the 
 colour of the model, which he then happened to have 
 before him ; it has all the force of nature, and the 
 colouring is flesh itself ; but, unluckily, the model 
 was of a bad form, especially the legs. Titian has 
 with as much care preserved these defects, as he 
 has imitated the beauty and brilliancy of the colour- 
 ing. In his colouring he was large and general, as 
 in his design he was minute and partial ; in the one 
 he was a genius, in the other not much above a 
 copier. I do not, however, speak now of all his 
 
 N 
 
178 The Eleventh Discourse 
 
 pictures ; instances enough may be produced in his 
 works, where those observations on his defects 
 could not with any propriety be applied : but it is 
 in the manner or language, as it may be called, in 
 which Titian and others of that school express 
 themselves, that their chief excellence lies. This 
 manner is in reality, in painting, what language is 
 in poetry; we are all sensible how differently the 
 imagination is affected by the same sentiment ex- 
 pressed in different words, and how mean or how 
 grand the same object appears when presented to us 
 by different painters. Whether it is the human 
 figure, an animal, or even inanimate objects, there 
 is nothing, however unpromising in appearance, 
 but may be raised into dignity, convey sentiment, 
 and produce emotion, in the hands of a painter of 
 genius. What was said of Virgil, that he threw 
 even the dung about the ground with an air of 
 dignity, may be applied to Titian : whatever he 
 touched, however naturally mean, and habitually 
 familiar, by a kind of magic he invested with 
 grandeur and importance. 
 
 I must here observe, that I am not recommend- 
 ing a neglect of the detail ; indeed it would be 
 difficult, if not impossible, to prescribe certain 
 bounds, and tell how far, or when it is to be observed 
 or neglected ; much must, at last, be left to the 
 taste and judgment of the artist. I am well aware 
 that a judicious detail will sometimes give the force 
 of truth to the work, and consequently interest the 
 spectator. I only wish to impress on your minds 
 the true distinction between essential and subor- 
 dinate powers ; and to show what qualities in the 
 art claim your chief attention, and what may, with 
 the least injury to your reputation, be neglected. 
 Something, perhaps, always must be neglected ; the 
 lesser ought then to give way to the greater; and 
 since every work can have but a limited time allotted 
 
The Eleventh Discourse 179 
 
 to it (for even supposing a whole life to be employed 
 about one picture, it is still limited), it appears more 
 reasonable to employ that time to the best advan- 
 tage, in contriving various methods of composing 
 the work, — in trying different effect of light and 
 shadow, — and employing the labour of correction 
 in heightening by a judicious adjustment of the 
 parts the effects of the whole, — than that the time 
 should be taken up in minutely finishing those parts. 
 
 But there is another kind of high finishing, which 
 may safely be condemned, as it seems to counter- 
 act its own purpose; that is, when the artist, to 
 avoid that hardness which proceeds from the out- 
 line cutting against the ground, softens and blends 
 the colours to excess : this is what the ignorant call 
 high finishing, but which tends to destroy the bril- 
 liancy of colour, and the true effect of representa- 
 tion ; which consists very much in preserving the 
 same proportion of sharpness and bluntness that is 
 found in natural objects. This extreme softening, 
 instead of producing the effect of softness, gives 
 the appearance of ivory, or some other hard sub- 
 stance, highly polished. 
 
 The portraits of Cornelius Jansen appear to have 
 this defect, and consequently want that suppleness 
 which is the characteristic of flesh ; whereas in the 
 works of Vandyck we find that true mixture of soft- 
 ness and hardness perfectly observed. The same 
 defect may be found in the manner of Vanderwerf, 
 in opposition to that of Teniers ; and such also, we 
 may add, is the manner of Raffaelle in his oil pic- 
 tures, in comparison with that of Titian. 
 
 The name which Raffaelle has so justly main- 
 tained as the first of painters, we may venture to 
 say was not acquired by this laborious attention. 
 His apology may be made by saying that it was the 
 manner of his country ; but if he had expressed his 
 ideas w^ith the facility and eloquence, as it may be 
 
 N 2 
 
i8o The Eleventh Discourse 
 
 called, of Titian, his works would certainly not 
 have been less excellent; and that praise, which 
 ag-es and nations have poured out upon him, for 
 possessing- genius in the higher attainments of art, 
 would have been extended to them all. 
 
 Those who are not conversant in works of art 
 are often surprised at the high value set by con- 
 noisseurs on drawings which appear careless, and in 
 every respect unfinished ; but they are truly valu- 
 able; and their value arises from this, that they give 
 the idea of a whole; and this whole is often ex- 
 pressed by a dexterous facihty which indicates the 
 true power of a painter, even though roughly 
 exerted : whether it consists in the general com- 
 position, or the general form of each figure, or the 
 turn of the attitude which bestows grace and 
 elegance. All this w^e may see fully exemplified in 
 the very skilful drawings of Parmegiano and Cor- 
 reggio. On whatever account we value these 
 drawings, it is certainly not for high finishing, or a 
 minute attention to particulars. 
 
 Excellence in every part, and in every province of 
 our art, from the highest style of history down to 
 the resemblances of still-life, will depend on this 
 power of extending the attention at once to the 
 whole, without which the greatest dili^rence is vain. 
 
 I wish you to bear in mind, that when I speak of 
 a whole, I do not mean simply a whole as be- 
 longing to composition, but a whole with respect 
 to the general style of colouring ; a whole with 
 regard to the light and shade ; a whole of everything 
 which may separately become the main object of a 
 painter. 
 
 I remember a landscape-painter in Rome, who 
 was known by the name of Studio, from his patience 
 in high finishing, in which he thought the whole 
 excellence of art consisted ; so that he once en- 
 deavoured, as he said, to represent every individual 
 
The Eleventh Discourse i8i 
 
 leaf on a tree. This picture I never saw ; but I am 
 very sure that an artist, who looked only at the 
 general character of the species, the order of the 
 branches, and the masses of the foliage, would in a 
 few minutes produce a more true resemblance of 
 trees, than this painter in as many months. 
 
 A landscape-painter certainly ought to study 
 anatomically (if I may use the expression) all the 
 objects which he paints ; but when he is to turn his 
 studies to use, his skill, as a man of genius, will be 
 displayed in showing the general effect, preserving 
 the same degree of hardness and softness which 
 the objects have in nature; for he applies himself 
 to the imagination, not to the curiosity, and works 
 not for the virtuoso or the naturalist, but for the 
 common observer of life and nature. When he 
 knows his subject, he will know not only what to 
 describe, but what to omit ; and this skill in leaving 
 out is, in all things, a great part of knowledge and 
 wisdom. 
 
 The same excellence of manner which Titian dis- 
 played in history or portrait-painting is equally 
 conspicuous in his landscapes, whether they are 
 professedly such, or serve only as backgrounds. 
 One of the most eminent of this latter kind is to be 
 found in the picture of St. Pietro Martire. The 
 large trees, which are here introduced, are plainly 
 distinguished from each other by the different 
 manner with which the branches shoot from their 
 trunks, as well as by their different foliage; and 
 the weeds in the foreground are varied in the same 
 manner, just as much as variety requires, and no 
 more. When Algarotti, speaking of this picture, 
 praises it for the minute discriminations of the 
 leaves and plants, even, as he says, to excite the 
 admiration of a botanist, his intention was un- 
 doubtedly to give praise even at the expense of 
 truth; for he must have known, that this is not the 
 
1 82 The Eleventh Discourse 
 
 character of the picture; but connoisseurs will al- 
 ways find in pictures what they think they ought to 
 find : he was not aware that he was giving a descrip- 
 tion injurious to the reputation of Titian. 
 
 Such accounts may be very hurtful to young 
 artists, who never have had an opportunity of see- 
 ing the work described; and they may possibly 
 conclude, that this great artist acquired the name 
 of the Divine Titian from his eminent attention to 
 such trifling circumstances, which, in reaUty, would 
 not raise him above the level of the most ordinary 
 painter. 
 
 We may extend these observations even to what 
 seems to have but a single, and that an individual 
 object. The excellence of portrait-painting, and 
 we may add even the likeness, the character, and 
 countenance, as I have observed in another place, 
 depend more upon the general effect produced by 
 the painter, than on the exact expression of the 
 peculiarities, or minute discrimination of the parts. 
 The chief attention of the artist is therefore em- 
 ployed in planting the features in their proper 
 places, which so much contributes to giving the 
 effect and true impression of the whole. The very 
 peculiarities may be reduced to classes and general 
 descriptions ; and there are therefore large ideas to 
 be found even in this contracted subject. He may 
 afterwards labour single features to what degree 
 he thinks proper, but let him not forget continually 
 to examine, whether in finishing the parts he is not 
 destroying the general effect. 
 
 It is certainly a thing to be wished, that all excel- 
 lence were applied to illustrate subjects that are 
 interesting and worthy of being commemorated ; 
 whereas, of half the pictures that are in the world, 
 the subject can be valued only as an occasion which 
 set the artist to work : and yet, our high estimation 
 of such pictures, without considering or perhaps 
 
The Eleventh Discourse 183 
 
 without knowing- the subject, shows how much our 
 attention is eng-aged by the art alone. 
 
 Perhaps nothing that we can say will so clearly 
 show the advantage and excellence of this faculty, 
 as that it confers the character of genius on works 
 that pretend to no other merit; in which is neither 
 expression, character nor dignity, and where none 
 are interested in the subject. We cannot refuse 
 the character of genius to the Marriage of Paolo 
 Veronese, without opposing the general sense of 
 mankind (great authorities have called it the 
 Triumph of Painting), or to the altar of St. Augus- 
 tine at Antwerp, by Rubens, which equally deserves 
 that title, and for the same reason. Neither of those 
 pictures have any interesting story to support them. 
 That of Paolo Veronese is only a representation of 
 a great concourse of people at a dinner; and the 
 subject of Rubens, if it may be called a subject 
 where nothing is doing, is an assembly of various 
 saints that lived in different ages. The whole ex- 
 cellence of those pictures consists in mechanical 
 dexterity, working, however, under the influence of 
 that comprehensive faculty which I have so often 
 mentioned. 
 
 It is by this, and this alone, that the mechanical 
 power is ennobled, and raised much above its 
 natural rank. And it appears to me, that with 
 propriety it acquires this character, as an instance 
 of that superiority with which mind predominates 
 over matter, by contracting into one whole what 
 nature has made multifarious. 
 
 The great advantage of this idea of a whole is, 
 that a greater quantity of truth may be said to be 
 contained and expressed in a few lines or touches, 
 than in the most laborious finishing of the parts, 
 where this is not regarded. It is upon this founda- 
 tion that it stands ; and the justness of the 
 observation would be confirmed by the ignorant in 
 
184 The Eleventh Discourse 
 
 art, if it were possible to take their opinions un- 
 seduced by some false notion of what they imagine 
 they oug-ht to see in a picture. As it is an art, they 
 think they ought to be pleased in proportion as 
 they see that art ostentatiously displayed ; they will, 
 from this supposition, prefer neatness, high finish- 
 ing, and gaudy colouring, to the truth, simplicity, 
 and unity of nature. Perhaps too, the totally 
 ignorant beholder, like the ignorant artist, cannot 
 comprehend a whole, nor even what it means. But 
 if false notions do not anticipate their perceptions, 
 they who are capable of observation, and who, pre- 
 tending to no skill, look only straight forward, will 
 praise and condemn in proportion as the painter 
 has succeeded in the effect of the whole. Here, 
 general satisfaction, or general dislike, though 
 perhaps despised by the painter, as proceeding from 
 the ignorance of the principles of art, may yet help to 
 regulate his conduct, and bring back his attention 
 to that which ought to be his principal object, and 
 from which he has deviated for the sake of minuter 
 beauties. 
 
 An instance of this right judgment I once saw in 
 a child, in going through a gallery where there were 
 many portraits of the last ages, which, though 
 neatly put out of hand, were very ill put together. 
 The child paid no attention to the neat finishing or 
 naturalness of any bit of drapery, but appeared to 
 observe only the ungracefulness of the persons re- 
 presented, and put herself in the posture of every 
 figure which she saw in a forced and awkward 
 attitude. The censure of nature, uninformed, 
 fastened upon the greatest fault that could be in a 
 picture, because it related to the character and 
 management of the whole. 
 
 I should be sorry, if what has been said should 
 be understood to have any tendency to encourage 
 that carelessness which leaves work in an unfinished 
 
The Eleventh Discourse 185 
 
 state. I commend nothing for the want of exact- 
 ness ; I mean to point out that kind of exactness 
 which is the best, and which is alone truly to be so 
 esteemed. 
 
 So far is my disquisition from g-iving* counten- 
 ance to idleness, that there is nothing in our art 
 which enforces such continual exertion and circum- 
 spection, as an attention to the general effect of 
 the whole. It requires much study and much prac- 
 tice ; it requires the painter's entire mind; whereas 
 the parts may be finishing by nice touches, while 
 his mind is engaged on other matters ; he may even 
 hear a play or a novel read without much disturb- 
 ance. The artist who flatters his own indolence 
 will continually find himself evading this active 
 exertion, and applying his thoughts to the ease and 
 laziness of highly finishing the parts ; producing at 
 last what Cowley calls laborious effects of idle- 
 ness.*' 
 
 No work can be too much finished, provided the 
 diligence employed be directed to its proper object ; 
 but I have observed that an excessive labour in the 
 detail has, nine times in ten, been pernicious to the 
 general effect, even when it has been the labour of 
 great masters. It indicates a bad choice, which is 
 an ill setting out in any undertaking. 
 
 To give a right direction to your industry has 
 been my principal purpose in this discourse. It is 
 this, which I am confident often makes the differ- 
 ence between two students of equal capacities and 
 of equal industry. While the one is employing 
 his labour on minute objects of little consequence, 
 the other is acquiring the art, and perfecting the 
 habit, of seeing nature in an extensive view, in its 
 proper proportions, and its due subordination of 
 parts. 
 
 Before I conclude, I must make one observation 
 sufficiently connected with the present subject. 
 
1 86 The Eleventh Discourse 
 
 The same extension of mind which gives the ex- 
 cellence of genius to the theory and mechanical 
 practice of the art, will direct him likewise in the 
 method of study, and give him the superiority over 
 those who narrowly follow a more confined track 
 of partial imitation. Whoever, in order to finish his 
 education, should travel to Italy, and spend his whole 
 time there only in copying pictures, and measuring 
 statues or buildings (though these things are not to 
 be neglected), would return with little improve- 
 ment. He that imitates the Iliad, says Dr. Young, 
 is not imitating Homer. It is not by laying up in 
 the memory the particular details of any of the 
 great works of art, that any man becomes a great 
 artist, if he stops without making himself master 
 of the general principles on which these works are 
 conducted. If he even hopes to rival those whom 
 he admires, he must consider their works as the 
 means of teaching him the true art of seeing nature. 
 When this is acquired, he then may be said to have 
 appropriated their powers, or at least the founda- 
 tion of their powers, to himself; the rest must 
 depend upon his own industry and application. 
 The great business of study is to form a mind, 
 adapted and adequate to all times and all occasions ; 
 to which all nature is then laid open, and which 
 may be said to possess the key of her inexhaustible 
 riches. 
 
The Twelfth Discourse 187 
 
 DISCOURSE XII 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December lo, 1784. 
 
 Particular Methods of Study of Little Consequence. — Little 
 of the Art can be taught. — Love of Method often a Love of 
 Idleness. Pittori Improvvisatori apt to be Careless and 
 Incorrect ; seldom Original and Striking. This proceeds 
 from their not studying the Works of Other Masters. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 In consequence of the situation in which I have 
 the honour to be placed in this Academy, it has often 
 happened, that I have been consulted by the young" 
 students who intend to spend some years in Italy^ 
 concerning the method of regulating their studies. 
 I am, as I ought to be, solicitously desirous to com- 
 municate the entire result of my experience and 
 observation ; and though my openness and facility in 
 giving my opinions might make some amends for 
 whatever was defective in them, yet I fear my 
 answers have not often given satisfaction. Indeed 
 I have never been sure that I understood perfectly 
 what they meant, and was not without some sus- 
 picion that they had not themselves very distinct 
 ideas of the object of their inquiry. 
 
 If the information required was, by what means 
 the path that leads to excellence could be discovered ; 
 if they v/ished to know whom they were to take for 
 their guides ; what to adhere to, and what to avoid ; 
 where they were to bait, and where they were to 
 take up their rest ; what was to be tasted only, and 
 what should be their diet ; such general directions 
 are certainly proper for a student to ask, and for me, 
 to the best of my capacity, to give ; but these rules 
 have been already given : they have in reality been 
 the subject of almost all my discourses from this 
 
1 88 The Twelfth Discourse 
 
 place. But I am rather inclined to think, that by 
 method of study , it was meant (as several do mean), 
 that the times and the seasons should be prescribed, 
 and the order settled, in which everything- was to be 
 done : that it might be useful to point out to what 
 degree of excellence one part of the art was to be 
 carried, before the student proceeded to the next; 
 how long he was to continue to draw from the 
 ancient statues, when to begin to compose, and when 
 to apply to the study of colouring. 
 
 Such a detail of instruction might be extended 
 with a great deal of plausible and ostentatious 
 amplification. But it would at best be useless. Our 
 studies will be for ever, in a very great degree, 
 under the direction of chance; like travellers, we 
 must take what we can get, and when we can get it ; 
 whether it is or is not administered to us in the 
 most commodious manner, in the most proper place, 
 or at the exact minute when we would wish to 
 have it. 
 
 Treatises on education, and method of study, have 
 always appeared to me to have one general fault. 
 They proceed upon a false supposition of life ; as if 
 we possessed not only a power over events and cir- 
 cumstances, but had a greater power over ourselves 
 than I believe any of us will be found to possess. 
 Instead of supposing ourselves to be perfect patterns 
 of wisdom and virtue, it seems to me more reason- 
 able to treat ourselves (as I am sure we must now 
 and then treat others) like humoursome children, 
 whose fancies are often to be indulged, in order to 
 keep them in good humour with themselves and 
 their pursuits. It is necessary to use some artifice 
 of this kind in all processes which by their very 
 nature are long, tedious, and complex, in order to 
 prevent our taking that aversion to our studies which 
 the continual shackles of methodical restraint are 
 sure to produce. 
 
The Twelfth Discourse 189 
 
 I would rather wish a student, as soon as he goes 
 abroad, to employ himself upon whatever he has 
 been incited to by any immediate impulse, than to 
 go sluggishly about a prescribed task : whatever he 
 does in such a state of mind, little advantage accrues 
 from it, as nothing sinks deep enough to leave any 
 lasting impression ; and it is impossible that any- 
 thing should be well understood, or well done, that 
 is taken into a reluctant understanding, and exe- 
 cuted with a servile hand. 
 
 It is desirable, and indeed is necessary to in- 
 tellectual health, that the mind should be recreated 
 and refreshed with a variety in our studies ; that in 
 the irksomeness of uniform pursuit we should be 
 relieved, and, if I may so say, deceived, as much 
 as possible. Besides, the minds of men are so very 
 differently constituted, that it is impossible to find 
 one method which shall be suitable to all. It is of 
 no use to prescribe to those who have no talents ; and 
 those who have talents will find methods for them- 
 selves — methods dictated to them by their own par- 
 ticular dispositions, and by the experience of their 
 own particular necessities. 
 
 However, I would not be understood to extend 
 this doctrine to the younger students. The first part 
 of the life of a student, like that of other schoolboys, 
 must necessarily be a life of restraint. The gram- 
 mar, the rudiments, however unpalatable, must at 
 all events be mastered. After a habit is acquired of 
 drawing correctly from the model (whatever it may 
 be) which he has before him, the rest, I think, may 
 be safely left to chance ; always supposing that the 
 student is employed^ and that his studies are directed 
 to the proper object. 
 
 A passion for his art, and an eager desire to excel, 
 will more than supply the place of method. By 
 leaving a student to himself, he may possibly indeed 
 be led to undertake matters above his strength : but 
 
190 The Twelfth Discourse 
 
 the trial will at least have this advantage, it will 
 discover to himself his own deficiencies ; and this 
 discovery alone is a very considerable acquisition. 
 One inconvenience, I acknowledge, may attend bold 
 and arduous attempts ; frequent failure may dis- 
 courage. This evil, however, is not more pernicious 
 than the slow proficiency which is the natural con- 
 sequence of too easy tasks. 
 
 Whatever advantages method may have in dis- 
 patch of business (and there it certainly has many), 
 I have but little confidence of its efficacy in acquiring 
 excellence in any art whatever. Indeed, I have 
 always strongly suspected that this love of method, 
 on which some persons appear to place so great 
 dependence, is, in reality, at the bottom, a love of 
 idleness ; a want of sufficient energy to put them- 
 selves into immediate action : it is a sort of an 
 apology to themselves for doing nothing. I have 
 known artists who may truly be said to have spent 
 their whole lives, or at least the most precious part 
 of their lives, in planning methods of study, without 
 ever beginning ; resolving, however, to put it all in 
 practice at some time or other, — when a certain 
 period arrives, — when proper conveniences are pro- 
 cured, — ^or when they remove to a certain place 
 better calculated for study. It is not uncommon for 
 such persons to go abroad with the most honest 
 and sincere resolution of studying hard, when they 
 shall arrive at the end of their journey. The same 
 want of exertion, arising from the same cause which 
 made them at home put off the day of labour until 
 they had found a proper scheme for it, still continues 
 in Italy, and they consequently return home with 
 little, if any, improvement. 
 
 In the practice of art, as well as in morals, it is 
 necessary to keep a watchful and jealous eye over 
 ourselves : idleness, assuming the specious disguise 
 of industry, will lull to sleep all suspicion of our 
 
The Twelfth Discourse 191 
 
 want of an active exertion of strength. A provision 
 of endless apparatus, a bustle of infinite inquiry and 
 research, or even the mere mechanical labour of 
 copying-, may be employed, to evade and shuffle off 
 real labour, — the real labour of thinking. 
 
 I have declined for these reasons to point out any 
 particular method and course of study to young 
 artists on their arrival in Italy. I have left it to 
 their own prudence, a prudence which will grow and 
 improve upon them in the course of unremitted, 
 ardent industry, directed by a real love of their pro- 
 fession, and an unfeigned admiration of those who 
 have been universally admitted as patterns of excel- 
 lence in the art. 
 
 In the exercise of that general prudence, I shall 
 here submit to their consideration such miscel- 
 laneous observations as have occurred to me on 
 considering the mistaken notions or evil habits, 
 which have prevented that progress towards ex- 
 cellence, which the natural abilities of several artists 
 might otherwise have enabled them to make. 
 
 False opinions and vicious habits have done far 
 more mischief to students, and to professors too, 
 than any wrong methods of study. 
 
 Under the influence of sloth, or of some mistaken 
 notion, is that disposition which always wants to 
 lean on other men. Such students are always talk- 
 ing of the prodigious progress they should make, if 
 they could but have the advantage of being taught by 
 some particular eminent master. To him they 
 would wish to transfer that care which they ought 
 and must take of themselves. Such are to be told, 
 that after the rudiments are past, very little of our 
 art can be taught by others. The most skilful 
 master can do little more than put the end of the 
 clue into the hands of his scholar, by which he must 
 conduct himself. 
 
 It is true the beauties and defects of the works of 
 
192 The Twelfth Discourse 
 
 our predecessors may be pointed out ; the principles 
 on which their works are conducted may be ex- 
 plained ; the great examples of ancient art may be 
 spread out before them ; but the most sumptuous 
 entertainment is prepared in vain, if the guests will 
 not take the trouble of helping themselves. 
 
 Even the Academy itself, where every convenience 
 for study is procured, and laid before them, may, 
 from that very circumstance, from leaving no diffi- 
 culties to be encountered in the pursuit, cause a 
 remission of their industry. It is not uncommon to 
 see young artists, whilst they are struggling with 
 every obstacle in their way, exert themselves with 
 such success as to outstrip competitors possessed of 
 every means of improvement. The promising ex- 
 pectation which was formed, on so much being done 
 with so little means, has recommended them to a 
 patron, who has supplied them with every con- 
 venience of study ; from that time their industry and 
 eagerness of pursuit has forsaken them ; they stand 
 still, and see others rush on before them. 
 
 Such men are like certain animals^ who will feed 
 only when there is but little provender, and that got 
 at with difficulty through the bars of a rack, but 
 refuse to touch it when there is an abundance before 
 them. 
 
 Perhaps such a falling off may proceed from the 
 faculties being overpowered by the immensity of the 
 materials ; as the traveller despairs ever to arrive at 
 the end of his journey, when the whole extent of the 
 road which he is to pass is at once displayed to his 
 view. 
 
 Among the first moral qualities, therefore, which 
 a student ought to cultivate, is a just and manly con- 
 fidence in himself, or rather in the effects of that 
 persevering industry when he is resolved to possess. 
 
 When Raffaelle, by means of his connection with 
 Bramante, the Pope's architect, was fixed upon to 
 
The Twelfth Discourse 193 
 
 adorn the Vatican with his works, he had done 
 nothing- that marked in him any great superiority 
 over his contemporaries ; though he was then but 
 young, he had under his direction the most consider- 
 able artists of his age; and we know what kind of 
 men those were : a lesser mind would have sunk 
 under such a weight ; and if we should judge from 
 the meek and gentle disposition which we are told 
 was the character of Raffaelle, we might expect this 
 would have happened to him ; but his strength 
 appeared to increase in proportion as exertion was 
 required ; and it is not improbable that we are in- 
 debted to the good fortune which first placed him in 
 that conspicuous situation, for those great examples 
 of excellence which he has left us. 
 
 The observations to which I formerly wished, and 
 now desire, to point your attention, relate not to 
 errors which are committed by those who have no 
 claim to merit, but to those inadvertences into 
 which men of parts only can fall by the overrating 
 or the abuse of some real, though perhaps sub- 
 ordinate, excellence. The errors last alluded to are 
 those of backward, timid characters ; what I shall 
 now speak of belong to another class, to those 
 artists who are distinguished for the readiness and 
 facility of their invention. It is undoubtedly a 
 splendid and desirable accomplishment to be able to 
 design instantaneously any given subject. It is an 
 excellence that I believe every artist would wish to 
 possess ; but unluckily, the manner in which this 
 dexterity is acquired, habituates the mind to be con- 
 tented with first thoughts without choice or selec- 
 tion. The judgment, after it has been long passive, 
 by degrees loses its power of becoming active when 
 exertion is necessary. 
 
 Whoever, therefore, has this talent, must in some 
 measure undo what he has had the habit of doing, or 
 at least give a new turn to his mind : great works, 
 
 o 
 
194 The Twelfth Discourse 
 
 which are to live and stand the criticism of posterity, 
 are not performed at a heat. A proportionable time 
 is required for deliberation and circumspection. I 
 remember when I was at Rome looking at the fight- 
 ing gladiator, in company with an eminent sculptor, 
 and I expressed my admiration of the skill with 
 which the whole is composed, and the minute atten- 
 tion of the artist to the change of every muscle in 
 that momentary exertion of strength, he was of 
 opinion that a work so perfect required nearly the 
 whole life of man to perform. 
 
 I believe, if we look around us, we shall find, that 
 in the sister art of poetry, what has been soon done 
 has been as soon forgotten. The judgment and 
 practice of a great poet on this occasion is worthy 
 attention. Metastasio, who has so much and justly 
 distinguished himself throughout Europe, at his out- 
 set was an improvvisatore, or extempore poet, a 
 description of men not uncommon in Italy : it is not 
 long since he was asked by a friend if he did not 
 think the custom of inventing and reciting extem- 
 pore, which he practised when a boy in his character 
 of an improvvisatore, might not be considered as a 
 happy beginning of his education ; he thought it, on 
 the contrary, a disadvantage to him : he said that he 
 had acquired by that habit a carelessness and in- 
 correctness, which it cost him much trouble to over- 
 come, and to substitute in the place of it a totally 
 different habit, that of thinking with selection, and 
 of expressing himself with correctness and precision. 
 
 However extraordinary it may appear, it is cer- 
 tainly true, that the inventions of the pittori im- 
 provvisatori, as they may be called, have, — notwith- 
 standing the common boast of their authors that all 
 is spun from their own brain, — very rarely anything 
 that has in the least the air of originality : — their 
 compositions are generally commonplace, uninterest- 
 ing, without character or expression, like those 
 
The Twelfth Discourse 195 
 
 flowery speeches that we sometimes hear, which 
 impress no new ideas on the mind. 
 
 I would not be thought, however, by what has 
 been said, to oppose the use, the advantage, the 
 necessity there is, of a painter's being readily able to 
 express his ideas by sketching. The further he can 
 carry such designs, the better. The evil to be 
 apprehended is his resting there, and not correcting 
 them afterwards from nature, or taking the trouble 
 to look about him for whatever assistance the works 
 of others will afford him. 
 
 We are not to suppose, that when a painter sits 
 down to deliberate on any work, he has all his know- 
 ledge to seek; he must not only be able to draw 
 extempore the human figure in every variety of 
 action, but he must be acquainted likewise with the 
 general principles of composition, and possess a 
 habit of foreseeing, while he is composing, the effect 
 of the masses of light and shadow, that will attend 
 such a disposition. His mind is entirely occupied 
 by his attention to the whole. It is a subsequent 
 consideration to determine the attitude and expres- 
 sion of individual figures. It is in this period of his 
 work that I would recommend to every artist to look 
 over his portfolio, or pocket-book, in which he has 
 treasured up all the happy inventions, all the extra- 
 ordinary and expressive attitudes that he has met 
 with in the course of his studies ; not only for the 
 sake of borrowing from those studies whatever may 
 be applicable to his own work, but likewise on 
 account of the great advantage he will receive by 
 bringing the ideas of great artists more distinctly 
 before his mind, which will teach him to invent 
 other figures in a similar style. 
 
 Sir Francis Bacon speaks with approbation of 
 the provisionary methods Demosthenes and Cicero 
 employed to assist their invention : and illustrates 
 their use by a quaint comparison after his manner. 
 
 o 2 
 
196 The Twelfth Discourse 
 
 These particular Studios being not immediately con- 
 nected with our art, I need not cite the passage I 
 allude to, and shall only observe that such prepara- 
 tion totally opposes the general received opinions 
 that are floating in the world concerning genius and 
 inspiration. The same great man in another place, 
 speaking of his own essays, remarks, that they treat 
 of those things, wherein both men's lives and per- 
 sons are most conversant, whereof a man shall find 
 much in experience, but little in books'*; they 
 are then what an artist would naturally call inven- 
 tion ; and yet we may suspect that even the genius of 
 Bacon, great as it was, would never have been 
 enabled to have made those observations, if his 
 mind had not been trained and disciplined by reading 
 the observations of others. Nor could he without 
 such reading have known that those opinions were 
 not to be found in other books. 
 
 I know there are many artists of great fame, who 
 appear never to have looked out of themselves, and 
 who probably would think it derogatory to their 
 character, to be supposed to borrow from any other 
 painter. But when we recollect, and compare the 
 works of such men with those who took to their 
 assistance the inventions of others, we shall be con- 
 vinced of the great advantage of this latter practice. 
 
 The two men most eminent for readiness of inven- 
 tion, that occur to me, are Luca Giordano and La 
 Fage ; one in painting, and the other in drawing. 
 
 To such extraordinary powers as were possessed 
 by both of those artists, we cannot refuse the char- 
 acter of genius ; at the same time, it must be 
 acknowledged that it w^as that kind of mechanic 
 genius which operates without much assistance of 
 the head. In all their works, which are (as might be 
 expected) very numerous, we may look in vain for 
 anything that can be said to be original and strik- 
 ing ; and yet, according to the ordinary ideas of 
 
The Twelfth Discourse 197 
 
 originality, they have as good pretensions as most 
 painters ; for they borrowed very little from others, 
 and still less will any artist, that can distinguish 
 between excellence and insipidity, ever borrow from 
 them. 
 
 To those men, and all such, let us oppose the 
 practice of the first of painters. I suppose we shall 
 all agree that no man ever possessed a greater 
 power of invention, and stood less in need of foreign 
 assistance, than Raffaelle ; and yet, when he was 
 designing one of his greatest as well as latest works, 
 the cartoons, it is very apparent that he had the 
 studies which he had made from Masaccio before 
 him. Two noble figures of St. Paul, which he found 
 there, he adopted in his own work : one of them he 
 took for St. Paul preaching at Athens ; and the other 
 for the same saint, when chastising the sorcerer 
 Elymas. Another figure in the same work, whose 
 head is sunk in his breast, with his eyes shut, 
 appearing deeply wrapped up in* thought, was intro- 
 duced amongst the listeners to the preaching of St. 
 Paul. The most material alteration that is made in 
 those two figures of St. Paul is the addition of the 
 left hands, which are not seen in the original. It is 
 a rule that Raffaelle observed (and indeed ought 
 never to be dispensed with), in a principal figure, to 
 show both hands ; that it should never be a question, 
 what is become of the other hand. For the Sacrifice 
 at Listra, he took the whole ceremony much as it 
 stands in an ancient basso-relievo, since published in 
 the Admit anda. 
 
 I have given examples from those pictures only 
 of Raffaelle which we have among us, though many 
 other instances might be produced of this great 
 painter's not disdaining assistance : indeed his 
 known wealth was so great, that he might borrow 
 where he pleased without loss of credit. 
 
 It may be remarked, that this work of Masaccio, 
 
198 The Twelfth Discourse 
 
 from which he has borrowed so freely, was a public 
 work, and at no farther distance from Rome than 
 Florence ; so that if he had considered it a dis- 
 graceful theft, he was sure to be detected ; but he 
 was well satisfied that his character for invention 
 would be little affected by such a discovery ; nor is 
 it, except in the opinion of those who are ig"norant 
 of the manner in which great works are built. 
 
 Those who steal from mere poverty ; who, hav- 
 ing- nothing- of their own, cannot exist a minute 
 without making- such depredations ; who are so poor 
 that they have no place in which they can even de- 
 posit what they have taken ; to men of this descrip- 
 tion nothing- can be said : but such artists as those 
 to whom I suppose myself now speaking-, men whom 
 I consider as competently provided with all the 
 necessaries and conveniences of art, and who do not 
 desire to steal baubles and common trash, but wish 
 only to possess peculiar rarities which they select 
 to ornament their cabinets, and take care to enrich 
 the g-eneral store with materials of equal or of 
 g-reater value than what they have taken ; such men 
 surely need not be ashamed of that friendly inter- 
 course which oug-ht to exist among- artists, of re- 
 ceiving- from the dead and g-iving- to the living, and 
 perhaps to those who are yet unborn. 
 
 The daily food and nourishment of the mind of 
 an artist is found in the great works of his pre- 
 decessors. There is no other way for him to become 
 great himself. Serpens y nisi serpentem comederitj 
 non jit draco, ^ is a remark of a whimsical Natural 
 History, which I have read, though I do not recol- 
 lect its title; however false as to dragons, it is ap- 
 plicable enough to artists. 
 
 * In Ben Jonson's ** Catiline we find this aphorism, 
 with a slight variation : 
 
 ** A serpent, ere he comes to be a dragon, 
 Must eat a bat.** M. 
 
The Twelfth Discourse 199 
 
 Raffaelle, as appears from what has been said, 
 had carefully studied the works of Masaccio ; and 
 indeed there was no other, if we except Michael 
 Angelo (whom he likewise imitated), so worthy of his 
 attention ; and though his manner was dry and hard, 
 his compositions formal, and not enough diversi- 
 fied, according to the custom of painters in that 
 early period, yet his works possess that grandeur 
 and simplicity which accompany, and even some- 
 times proceed from, regularity and hardness of 
 manner. We must consider the barbarous state 
 of the arts before his time, when skill in drawing 
 was so little understood, that the best of the painters 
 could not even foreshorten the foot, but every figure 
 appeared to stand upon his toes ; and what served 
 for drapery had, from the hardness and smallness 
 of the folds, too much the appearance of cords cling- 
 ing round the body. He first introduced large 
 drapery, flowing in an easy and natural manner : in- 
 deed he appears to be the first who discovered the 
 path that leads to every excellence to which the art 
 afterwards arrived, and may therefore be justly 
 considered as one of the great fathers of modern 
 art. 
 
 Though I have been led on to a longer digression 
 respecting this great painter than I intended, yet I 
 cannot avoid mentioning another excellence which he 
 possessed in a very eminent degree ; he was as much 
 distinguished among his contemporaries for his dili- 
 gence and industry, as he was for the natural facul- 
 ties of his mind. We are told, that his whole atten- 
 tion was absorbed in the pursuit of his art, and that 
 he acquired the name of Masaccio ^ from his total 
 disregard to his dress, his person, and all the com- 
 mon concerns of life. He is indeed a signal instance 
 of what well-directed diligence will do in a short 
 
 * The addition of accio denotes some deformity or imper- 
 fection attending that person to whom it is applied. R. 
 
200 The Twelfth Discourse 
 
 time; he lived but twenty-seven years; yet in that 
 short space carried the art so far beyond what it 
 had before reached, that he appears to stand alone 
 as a model for his successors. Vasari gives a long- 
 catalogue of painters and sculptors, who formed 
 their taste, and learned their art, by studying his 
 works ; among those, he names Michael Angelo, 
 Lionardo da Vinci, Pietro Perugino, Raffaelle, Bar- 
 tolomeo, Andrea del Sarto, II Rosso, and Pierino 
 del Vaga. 
 
 The habit of contemplating and brooding over the 
 •ideas of great geniuses, till you find yourself 
 warmed by the contact, is the true method of form- 
 ing an artist-like mind ; it is impossible, in the pres- 
 ence of those great men, to think, or invent in a 
 mean manner; a state of mind is acquired that re- 
 ceives those ideas only which relish of grandeur and 
 simplicity. 
 
 Beside the general advantage of forming the taste 
 by such an intercourse, there is another of a par- 
 ticular kind, which was suggested to me by the 
 practice of Raffaelle, when imitating the work of 
 which I have been speaking. The figure of the Pro- 
 consul, Sergius Paulus, is taken from the Felix of 
 Masaccio, though one is a front figure, and the other 
 seen in profile ; the action is likewise somewhat 
 changed ; but it is plain Raffaelle had that figure in 
 his mind. There is a circumstance indeed, which I 
 mention by the bye, which marks it very particularly ; 
 Sergius Paulus wears a crown of laurel ; this is 
 hardly reconcilable to strict propriety and the 
 costumey of which Raffaelle was in general a good 
 observer; but he found it so in Masaccio, and he 
 did not bestow so much pains in disguise as to 
 change it. It appears to me to be an excellent prac- 
 tice, thus to suppose the figures which you wish to 
 adopt in the works of those great painters to be 
 statues; and to give, as Raffaelle has here given, 
 
The Twelfth Discourse 201 
 
 another view, taking care to preserve all the spirit 
 and grace you find in the original. 
 
 I should hope, from what has been lately said, 
 that it is not necessary to guard myself against any 
 supposition of recommending an entire dependence 
 upon former masters. I do not desire that you 
 should get other people to do your business, or to 
 think for you ; I only wish you to consult with, to 
 call in, as counsellors, men the most distinguished 
 for their knowledge and experience, the result of 
 which counsel must ultimately depend upon your- 
 self. Such conduct in the commerce of life has 
 never been considered as disgraceful, or in any re- 
 spect to imply intellectual imbecility ; it is a sign 
 rather of that true wisdom, which feels individual im- 
 perfection, and is conscious to itself how much col- 
 lective observation is necessary to fill the immense 
 extent, and to comprehend the infinite variety, of 
 nature. I recommend neither self-dependence nor 
 plagiarism. I advise you only to take that assist- 
 ance which every human being wants, and which,, 
 as appears from the examples that have been given ^ 
 the greatest painters have not disdained to accept. 
 Let me add, that the diligence required in the 
 search, and the exertion subsequent in accommo- 
 dating those ideas to your own purpose, is a busi- 
 ness which idleness will not, and ignorance cannot^ 
 perform. But in order more distinctly to explain 
 what kind of borrowing I mean, when I recommend 
 so anxiously the study of the works of great mas- 
 ters, let us for a minute return again to Raffaelle, 
 consider his method of practice, and endeavour to 
 imitate him, in his manner of imitating others. 
 
 The two figures of St. Paul which I lately men- 
 tioned, are so nobly conceived by Masaccio, that 
 perhaps it was not in the power even of Raffaelle 
 himself to raise and improve them, nor has he at- 
 tempted it ; but he has had the address to change in 
 
202 The Twelfth Discourse 
 
 some measure without diminishing the grandeur of 
 their character; he has substituted, in the place of a 
 serene composed dignity, that animated expression 
 which was necessary to the more active employment 
 he has assigned them. 
 
 In the same manner he has given more animation 
 to the figure of Sergius Paulus, and to that which 
 is introduced in the picture of St. Paul preach- 
 ing, of which little more than hints are given by 
 Masaccio, which Raffaelle has finished. The closing 
 the eyes of this figure, which in Masaccio might be 
 easily mistaken for sleeping, is not in the least am- 
 biguous in the cartoon : his eyes indeed are closed, 
 but they are closed with such vehemence, that the 
 agitation of a mind perplexed in the extreme is seen 
 at the first glance ; but what is most extraordinary, 
 and I think particularly to be admired, is, that the 
 same idea is continued through the whole figure, 
 even to the drapery, which is so closely muffled about 
 him, that even his hands are not seen ; by this happy 
 correspondence between the expression of the coun- 
 tenance, and the disposition of the parts, the figure 
 appears to think from head to foot. Men of superior 
 talents alone are capable of thus using and adapt- 
 ing other men's minds to their own purposes, or 
 are able to make out and finish what was only in the 
 original a hint or imperfect conception. A readi- 
 ness in taking such hints, which escape the dull and 
 ignorant, makes in my opinion no inconsiderable 
 part of that faculty of the mind which is called 
 genius. 
 
 It often happens that hints may be taken and 
 employed in a situation totally different from that 
 in which they were originally employed. There is a 
 figure of a Bacchante leaning backward, her head 
 thrown quite behind her, which seems to be a 
 favourite invention, as it is so frequently repeated in 
 basso-relievos, cameos, and intaglios ; it is intended 
 
The Twelfth Discourse 203 
 
 to express an enthusiastic frantic kind of joy. This 
 figure Baccio Bandinelli, in a drawing- that I have 
 of that master, of the Descent from the Cross, has 
 adopted (and he knew very well what was worth 
 borrowing-) for one of the Marys, to express frantic 
 ag-ony of g-rief. It is curious to observe, and it is 
 certainly true, that the extremes of contrary pas- 
 sions are with very little variation expressed by the 
 same action. 
 
 If I were to recommend method in any part of the 
 study of a painter, it would be in regard to inven- 
 tion ; that young- students should not presume to 
 think themselves qualified to invent, till they were 
 acquainted with those stores of invention the world 
 already possesses, and had by that means accumu- 
 lated sufficient materials for the mind to work with. 
 It would certainly be no improper method of form- 
 ing the mind of a young artist, to begin with such 
 exercises as the Italians call a pasticcio composition 
 of the different excellences which are dispersed in 
 all other works of the sams kind. It is not sup- 
 posed that he is to stop here, but that he is to acquire 
 by this means the art of selecting, first what is truly 
 excellent in art, and then what is still more excellent 
 in nature ; a task which, without this previous 
 study, he will be but ill qualified to perform. 
 
 The doctrine which is here advanced, is acknow- 
 ledged to be new, and to many may appear strange. 
 But I only demand for it the reception of a stranger ; 
 a favourable and attentive consideration, without 
 that entire confidence which might be claimed under 
 authoritative recommendation. 
 
 After you have taken a figure, or any idea of 
 a figure, from any of those great painters, there is 
 another operation still remaining, which I hold to be 
 indispensably necessary, that is, never to neglect 
 finishing from nature every part of the work. What 
 is taken from a model, though the first idea may 
 
204 The Twelfth Discourse 
 
 have been suggested by another, you have a just 
 right to consider as your own property. And here I 
 cannot avoid mentioning a circumstance in placing 
 the model, though to some it may appear trifling. 
 It is better to possess the model with the attitude 
 you require, than to place him with your own hands : 
 by this means it happens often that the model puts 
 himself in an action superior to your own imagina- 
 tion. It is a great matter to be in the way of acci- 
 dent, and to be watchful and ready to take advan- 
 tage of it : besides, when you fix the position of a 
 model, there is danger of putting him in an attitude 
 into which no man would naturally fall. This ex- 
 tends even to drapery. We must be cautious in 
 touching and altering a fold of the stuff, which 
 serves as a model, for fear of giving it inadvertently 
 a forced form ; and it is perhaps better to take the 
 chance of another casual throw, than to alter the 
 position in which it was at first accidentally cast. 
 
 Rembrandt, in order to take the advantage of acci- 
 dent, appears often to have used the palette-knife 
 to lay his colours on the canvas, instead of the 
 pencil. Whether it is the knife or any other instru- 
 ment, it sufiiices if it is something that does not fol- 
 low exactly the will. Accident in the hands of an 
 artist who knows how to take the advantage of its 
 hints, will often produce bold and capricious beau- 
 ties of handling and facility, such as he would not 
 have thought of, or ventured, with his pencil, under 
 the regular restraint of his hand. However, this 
 is fit only on occasions where no correctness of form 
 is required, such as clouds, stumps of trees, rocks, 
 or broken ground. Works produced in an acci- 
 dental manner will have the same free unrestrained 
 air as the works of nature, whose particular com- 
 binations seem to depend upon accident. 
 
 I again repeat, you are never to lose sight of 
 nature; the instant you do, you are all abroad, at 
 
The Twelfth Discourse 205 
 
 the mercy of every gfust of fashion, without know- 
 ing- or seeing- the point to which you ought to steer. 
 Whatever trips you make, you must still have nature 
 in your eye. Such deviations as art necessarily re- 
 quires, I hope in a future discourse to be able to ex- 
 plain. In the meantime, let me recommend to 
 you, not to have too great dependence on your 
 practice or memory, however strong- those impres- 
 sions may have been which are there deposited. 
 They are for ever wearing out, and will be at last 
 obliterated, unless they are continually refreshed 
 and repaired. 
 
 It is not uncommon to meet with artists who, from 
 a long- neglect of cultivating this necessary intim- 
 acy with nature, do not even know her when they 
 see hert she appearing a stranger to them, from 
 their being so long habituated to their own represen- 
 tation of her. I have heard painters acknowledge, 
 though in that acknowledgment no degradation of 
 themselves was intended, that they could do better 
 without nature than with her ; or, as they expressed 
 it themselves, that it only put them out, A painter 
 with such ideas and such habits is indeed in a most 
 hopeless state. The art of seeing nature, or, in 
 other words, the art of using models, is in reality 
 the great object, the point to which all our studies 
 are directed. As for the power of being able to do 
 tolerably well, from practice alone, let it be valued 
 according to its worth. But I do not see in what 
 manner it can be sufficient for the production of 
 correct, excellent, and finished pictures. Works 
 deserving this character never were produced, nor 
 ever will arise, from memory alone ; and I will ven- 
 ture to say, that an artist who brings to his work 
 a mind tolerably furnished with the general prin- 
 ciples of art, and a taste formed upon the works of 
 good artists, in short, who knows in what excellence 
 consists, will with the assistance of models, which 
 
2o6 The Twelfth Discourse 
 
 we will likewise suppose he has learned the art of 
 using, be an over-match for the greatest painter 
 that ever lived who should be debarred such ad- 
 vantages. 
 
 Our neighbours, the French, are much in this 
 practice of extempore invention, and their dexterity 
 is such as even to excite admiration, if not envy; 
 but how rarely can this praise be given to their 
 finished pictures ! 
 
 The late Director of their Academy, Boucher^ 
 was eminent in this way. When I visited him 
 some years since, in France, I found him at work 
 on a very large picture, without drawings or models 
 of any kind. On my remarking this particular 
 circumstance, he said, when he was young, study- 
 ing his art, he found it necessary to use models ; 
 but he had left them off for many years. 
 
 Such pictures as this was, and such as I fear al- 
 ways will be produced by those who work solely from 
 practice or memory, may be a convincing proof of 
 the necessity of the conduct which I have recom- 
 mended. However, in justice I cannot quit this 
 painter without adding, that in the former part of 
 his life, when he was in the habit of having recourse 
 to nature, he was not without a considerable degree 
 of merit, — enough to make half the painters of his 
 country his imitators ; he had often grace and 
 beauty, and good skill in composition ; but, I think 
 all under the influence of a bad taste : his imitators 
 are indeed abominable. 
 
 Those artists who have quitted the service of 
 nature (whose service, when well understood, is 
 perfect freedom), and have put themselves under the 
 direction of I know not what capricious fantastical 
 mistress, who fascinates and overpowers their 
 whole mind, and from whose dominion there are 
 no hopes of their being ever reclaimed (since they 
 appear perfectly satisfied, and not at all conscious 
 
The Thirteenth Discourse 207 
 
 of their forlorn situation), like the transformed fol- 
 lowers of Comus, — 
 
 Not once perceive their foul disfigurement ; 
 
 But boast themselves more comely than before. 
 
 Methinks such men, who have found out so 
 short a path, have no reason to complain of the 
 shortness of life, and the extent of art; since life is 
 so much longer than is wanted for their improve- 
 ment, or indeed is necessary for the accomplishment 
 of their idea of perfection. On the contrary, he 
 who recurs to nature, at every recurrence renews 
 his streng-th. The rules of art he is never likely to 
 forget ; they are few and simple ; but nature is re- 
 fined, subtle, and infinitely various, beyond the 
 power and retention of memory ; it is necessary, 
 therefore, to have continual recourse to her. In 
 this intercourse, there is no end of his improvement ; 
 the longer he lives, the nearer he approaches to the 
 true and perfect idea of art. 
 
 DISCOURSE XIII 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December ii, 1786. 
 
 Art not merely Imitation, but under the Direction of the 
 Imagination. In what Manner Poetry, Painting, Acting, 
 Gardening, and Architecture depart from Nature. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 To discover beauties, or to point out faults, in 
 the works of celebrated masters, and to compare 
 the conduct of one artist with another, is certainly 
 no mean or inconsiderable part of criticism ; but this 
 is still no more than to know the art through the 
 artist. This test of investigation must have two 
 capital defects ; it must be narrow, and it must be 
 
2o8 The Thirteenth Discourse 
 
 uncertain. To enlarge the boundaries of the art 
 of painting, as well as to fix its principles, it will 
 be necessary, that that art and those principles 
 should be considered in their correspondence with 
 th^ principles of the other arts which, like this, 
 ;address themselves primarily and principally to the 
 imagination. When those connected and kindred 
 principles are brought together to be compared, 
 ;another comparison will grow out of this ; that is, 
 the comparison of them all with those of human 
 :nature, from whence arts derive the materials upon 
 which they are to produce their effects. 
 
 When this comparison of art with art, and of all 
 arts with the nature of man, is once made with 
 success, our guiding lines are as well ascertained 
 and established, as they can be in matters of this 
 description. 
 
 This, as it is the highest style of criticism, is at 
 the same time the soundest; for it refers to the 
 eternal and immutable nature of things. 
 
 You are not to imagine that I mean to open to 
 you at large, or to recommend to your research, 
 the whole of this vast field of science. It is cer- 
 tainly much above my faculties to reach it; and 
 though it may not be above yours to comprehend it 
 fully, if it were fully and properly brought before 
 you, yet perhaps the most perfect criticism requires 
 habits of speculation and abstraction, not very 
 consistent with the employment which ought to 
 occupy and the habits of mind which ought to pre- 
 vail in a practical artist. I only point out to you 
 these things, that when you do criticise (as all who 
 work on a plan will criticise more or less), your 
 criticism may be built on the foundation of true 
 principles ; and that though you may not always 
 travel a great way, the way that you do travel may 
 Ibe the right road. 
 
 I observe, as a fundamental ground, common to 
 
The Thirteenth Discourse 209 
 
 all the arts with which we have any concern in this 
 discourse, that they address themselves only to two 
 faculties of the mind, its imagination and its sen- 
 sibility. 
 
 All theories which attempt to direct or to control 
 the art, upon any principles falsely called rational, 
 which we form to ourselves upon a supposition of 
 what ought in reason to be the end or means of 
 art, independent of the known first effect produced 
 by objects on the imagination, must be false and 
 delusive. For though it may appear bold to say it, 
 the imagination is here the residence of truth. If 
 the imagination be affected, the conclusion is fairly 
 drawn ; if it be not affected, the reasoning is 
 erroneous, because the end is not obtained; the 
 effect itself being the testy and the only test, of the 
 truth and efficacy of the means. 
 
 There is in the commerce of life, as in art, a 
 sagacity which is far from being contradictory to 
 right reason, and is superior to any occasional 
 exercise of that faculty ; which supersedes it ; and 
 does not wait for the slow progress of deduction, 
 but goes at once, by what appears a kind of in- 
 tuition, to the conclusion. A man endowed with 
 this faculty feels and acknowledges the truth, 
 though it is not always in his power, perhaps, to 
 give a reason for it ; because he cannot recollect 
 and bring before him all the materials that gave 
 birth to his opinion ; for very many and very 
 intricate considerations may unite to form the 
 principle, even of small and minute parts, involved 
 in, or dependent on, a great system of things : 
 though these in process of time are forgotten, the 
 right impression still remains fixed in his mind. 
 
 This impression is the result of the accumulated 
 experience of our whole life, and has been collected, 
 we do not always know how, or when. But this 
 mass of collective observation, however acquired. 
 
2IO The Thirteenth Discourse 
 
 oug-ht to prevail over that reason, which, however 
 powerfully exerted on any particular occasion, will 
 probably comprehend but a partial view of the sub- 
 ject; and our conduct in Hfe as well as in the arts 
 is, or ought to be, generally governed by this 
 habitual reason : it is our happiness that we are 
 enabled to draw on such funds. If we were obliged 
 to enter into a theoretical deliberation on every 
 occasion, before we act, life would be at a stand, 
 and art would be impracticable. 
 
 It appears to me, therefore, that our first thoughts, 
 that is, the effect which anything produces on our 
 minds, on its first appearance, is never to be for- 
 gotten ; and it demands for that reason, because it 
 is the first, to be laid up with care. If this be not 
 done, the artist may happen to impose on himself 
 by partial reasoning; by a cold consideration of 
 those animated thoughts which proceed, not per- 
 haps from caprice or rashness (as he may after- 
 wards conceit), but from the fulness of his mind, 
 enriched with the copious stores of all the various in- 
 ventions which he had ever seen, or had ever passed 
 in his mind. These ideas are infused into his 
 design, without any conscious effort ; but if he be 
 not on his guard, he may reconsider and correct 
 them, till the whole matter is reduced to a common- 
 place invention. 
 
 This is sometimes the effect of what I mean to 
 caution you against; that is to say, an unfounded 
 distrust of the imagination and feeling, in fav- 
 our of narrow, partial, confined, argumentative 
 theories ; and of principles that seem to apply to the 
 design in hand ; without considering- those general 
 impressions on the fancy in which real principles 
 of sound reason, and of much more weight and im- 
 portance, are involved, and, as it were, lie hid, 
 under the appearance of a sort of vulgar sentiment. 
 
 Reason, without doubt, must ultimately deter- 
 
The Thirteenth Discourse 211 
 
 mine everything; at this minute it is required to 
 inform us when that very reason is to give way to 
 feeling-. 
 
 Though I have often spoken of that mean concep- 
 tion of our art which confines it to mere imitation, 
 I must add, that it may be narrowed to such a mere 
 matter of experiment, as to exclude from it the 
 application of science, which alone gives dignity 
 and compass to any art. But to find proper foun- 
 dations for science is neither to narrow nor to 
 vulgarise it ; and this is sufficiently exemplified in 
 the success of experimental philosophy. It is the 
 false system of reasoning, grounded on a partial 
 view of things, against which I would most 
 earnestly guard you. And I do it the rather, be- 
 cause those narrow theories, so coincident with 
 the poorest and most miserable practice, and which 
 are adopted to give it countenance, have not had 
 their origin in the poorest minds, but in the 
 mistakes, or possibly in the mistaken interpreta- 
 tions, of great and commanding authorities. We 
 are not therefore in this case misled by feeling, but 
 by false speculation. 
 
 When such a man as Plato speaks of painting as 
 only an imitative art, and that our pleasure proceeds 
 from observing and acknowledgino- the truth of the 
 imitation, I think he misleads us by a partial theory. 
 It is in this poor, partial, and so far false view of 
 the art, that Cardinal Bembo has chosen to dis- 
 tinguish even Raffaelle himself, whom our en- 
 thusiasm honours with the name of Divine. The 
 same sentiment is adopted by Pope in his epitaph 
 on Sir Godfrey Kneller ; and he turns the panegyric 
 solely on imitation, as it is a sort of deception. 
 
 I shall not think my time misemployed, if by any 
 means I may contribute to confirm your opinion of 
 what ought to be the object of your pursuit; be- 
 cause, though the best critics must always have 
 
 P2 
 
212 The Thirteenth Discourse 
 
 exploded this strange idea, yet I know that there is 
 a disposition towards a perpetual recurrence to it, 
 on account of its simplicity and superficial plausi- 
 bility. For this reason I shall beg* leave to lay 
 before you a few thoughts on this subject ; to throw 
 out some hints that may lead your minds to an 
 opinion (which I take to be the truth), that painting 
 is not only to be considered as an imitation, 
 operating by deception, but that it is, and ought to 
 be, in many points of view, and strictly speaking, 
 no imitation at all of external nature. Perhaps it 
 ought to be as far removed from the vulgar idea of 
 imitation, as the refined civilised state in which we 
 live, is removed from a gross state of nature ; and 
 those who have not cultivated their imaginations, 
 which the majority of mankind certainly have not, 
 may be said, in regard to arts, to continue in this 
 state of nature. Such men will always prefer 
 imitation to that excellence which is addressed to 
 another faculty that they do not possess; but these 
 are not the persons to whom a painter is to look, 
 any more than a judge of morals and manners ought 
 to refer controverted points upon those subjects to 
 the opinions of people taken from the banks of the 
 Ohio, or from New Holland. 
 
 It is the lowest style only of arts, whether of 
 painting, poetry, or music, that may be said, in the 
 vulgar sense, to be naturally pleasing. The higher 
 efforts of those arts, we know by experience, do not 
 affect minds wholly uncultivated. This refined 
 taste is the consequence of education and habit ; 
 we are born only with a capacity of entertaining this 
 refinement, as we are born with a disposition to 
 receive and obey all the rules and regulations of 
 society ; and so far it may be said to be natural to 
 us, and no further. 
 
 What has been said, may show the artist how 
 necessary it is, when he looks about him for the 
 
The Thirteenth Discourse 213 
 
 advice and criticism of his friends, to make some 
 distinction of the character, taste, experience, and 
 observation in this art of those from whom it is 
 received. An ignorant uneducated man may, Hke 
 Apelles's critic, be a competent judge of the truth 
 of the representation of a sandal ; or to go some- 
 what higher, Uke Moh^re's old woman, may decide 
 upon what is nature, in regard to comic humour ; 
 but a critic in the higher style of art ought to 
 possess the same refined taste, which directed the 
 artist in his work. 
 
 To illustrate this principle by a comparison with 
 other arts, I shall now produce some instances to 
 show, that they, as well as our own art, renounce 
 the narrow idea of nature, and the narrow theories 
 derived from that mistaken principle, and apply to 
 that reason only which informs us not what imita- 
 tion is, — a natural representation of a given object, 
 — but what it is natural for the imagination to be 
 delighted with. And perhaps there is no better 
 way of acquiring this knowledge, than by this kind 
 of analogy : each art will corroborate and mutually 
 reflect the truth on the other. Such a kind of 
 juxtaposition may likewise have this use, that 
 whilst the artist is amusing himself in the contem- 
 plation of other arts, he may habitually transfer the 
 principles of those arts to that which he professes ; 
 which ought to be always present to his mind, and 
 to which everything is to be referred. 
 
 So far is art from being derived from, or having 
 any immediate intercourse with, particular nature 
 as its model, that there are many arts that set out 
 with a professed deviation from it. 
 
 This is certainly not so exactly true in regard to 
 painting and sculpture. Our elements are laid in 
 gross common nature, — an exact imitation of what 
 is before us : but when we advance to the higher 
 state, we consider this power of imitation, though 
 
214 The Thirteenth Discourse 
 
 first in the order of acquisition, as by no means the 
 hig-hest in the scale of perfection. 
 
 Poetry addresses itself to the same faculties and 
 the same dispositions as painting, though by 
 different means. The object of both is to accom- 
 modate itself to all the natural propensities and 
 inclinations of the mind. The very existence of 
 poetry depends on the licence it assumes of deviating 
 from actual nature, in order to gratify natural 
 propensities by other means, which are found by 
 experience full as capable of affording such gratifica- 
 tion. It sets out with a language in the highest 
 degree artificial, a construction of measured words, 
 such as never is, nor ever was used by man. Let 
 this measure be what it may, whether hexameter or 
 any other metre used in Latin or Greek — or rhyme, 
 or blank verse varied with pauses and accents, in 
 modern languages, — they are all equally removed 
 from nature, and equally a violation of common 
 speech. When this artificial mode has been estab- 
 lished as the vehicle of sentiment, there is another 
 principle in the human mind, to which the work 
 must be referred, which still renders it more arti- 
 ficial, carries it still further from common nature, 
 and deviates only to render it more perfect. That 
 principle is the sense of congruity, coherence, and 
 consistency, which is a real existing principle in 
 man ; and it must be gratified. Therefore having 
 once adopted a style and a measure not found in 
 common discourse, it is required that the sentiments 
 also should be in the same proportion elevated above 
 common nature, from the necessity of there being 
 an agreement of the parts among themselves, that 
 one uniform whole may be produced. 
 
 To correspond therefore with this general system 
 of deviation from nature, the manner in which 
 poetry is offered to the ear, the tone in which it is 
 recited, should be as far removed from the tone of 
 
The Thirteenth Discourse 215 
 
 conversation, as the words of which that poetry is 
 composed. This naturally suggests the idea of 
 modulating- the voice by art, which I suppose may 
 be considered as accomplished to the hig-hest degree 
 of excellence in the recitative of the Italian Opera ; 
 as we may conjecture it was in the chorus that at- 
 tended the ancient drama. And though the most 
 violent passions, the highest distress, even death 
 itself, are expressed in singing or recitative, I 
 would not admit as sound criticism the condemna- 
 tion of such exhibitions on account of their being 
 unnatural. 
 
 If it is natural for our senses, and our imagina- 
 tions, to be delighted with singing, with instrumental 
 music, with poetry, and with graceful action, taken 
 separately (none of them being in the vulgar sense 
 natural, even in that separate state) ; it is conform- 
 able to experience, and therefore agreeable to 
 reason as connected with and referred to experience, 
 that we should also be delighted with this union of 
 music, poetry, and graceful action, joined to every 
 circumstance of pomp and magnificence calculated 
 to strike the senses of the spectator. Shall reason 
 stand in the way, and tell us that we ought not to 
 like what we know we do like, and prevent us from 
 feeling the full effect of this complicated exertion 
 of art? This is what I would understand by poets 
 and painters being allowed to dare everything ; for 
 what can be more daring, than accomplishing the 
 purpose and end of art, by a complication of means, 
 none of which have their archetypes in actual 
 nature ? 
 
 So far therefore is servile imitation from being 
 necessary, that whatever is familiar, or in any way 
 reminds us of what we see and hear every day, 
 perhaps does not belong to the higher provinces of 
 art, either in poetry or painting. The mind is to 
 be transported, as Shakspeare expresses it, beyond 
 
2i6 The Thirteenth Discourse 
 
 the ignorant present to ages past. Another and 
 a higher order of beings is supposed ; and to those 
 beings everything which is introduced into the 
 work must correspond. Of this conduct, under 
 these circumstances, the Roman and Florentine 
 schools afford sufficient examples. Their style by 
 this means is raised and elevated above all others ; 
 and by the same means the compass of art itself is 
 enlarged. 
 
 We often see grave and great subjects attempted 
 by artists of another school ; who, though excellent 
 in the lower class of art, proceeding on the princi- 
 ples which regfulate that class, and not recollecting, 
 or not knowing, that they were to address them- 
 selves to another faculty of the mind, have become 
 perfectly ridiculous. 
 
 The picture which I have at present in my 
 thoughts is a sacrifice of Iphigenia, painted by Jan 
 Steen, a painter of whom I have formerly had occa- 
 sion to speak with the highest approbation ; and 
 even in this picture, the subject of which is by no 
 means adapted to his genius, there is nature and 
 expression ; but it is such expression, and the 
 countenances are so familiar, and consequently so 
 vulgar, and the whole accompanied with such finery 
 of silks and velvets, that one would be almost 
 tempted to doubt, whether the artist did not pur- 
 posely intend to burlesque his subject. 
 
 Instances of the same kind we frequently see in 
 poetry. Parts of Hobbes's translation of Homer 
 are remembered and repeated merely for the 
 familiarity and meanness of their phraseology, so 
 ill corresponding with the ideas which ought to 
 have been expressed, and, as I conceive, with the 
 style of the original. 
 
 We may proceed in the same manner through the 
 comparatively inferior branches of art. There are 
 in works of that class, the same distinction of a 
 
The Thirteenth Discourse 217 
 
 higher and a lower style; and they take their rank 
 and degree in proportion as the artist departs more, 
 or less, from common nature, and makes it an object 
 of his attention to strike the imagination of the 
 spectator by ways belonging specially to art, — un- 
 observed and untaught out of the school of its 
 practice. 
 
 If our judgments are to be directed by narrow, 
 vulgar, untaught, or rather ill-taught reason, we 
 must prefer a portrait by Denner or any other high 
 finisher, to those of Titian or Vandyck ; and a 
 landscape of Vanderheyden to those of Titian or 
 Rubens ; for they are certainly more exact represen- 
 tations of nature. 
 
 If we suppose a view of nature represented with 
 all the truth of the camera obscura^ and the same 
 scene represented by a great artist, how little and 
 mean will the one appear in comparison of the other, 
 where no superiority is supposed from the choice of 
 the subject. The scene shall be the same, the 
 difference only will be in the manner in which 
 it is presented to the eye. With what additional 
 superiority then will the same artist appear when 
 he has the power of selecting his materials, as well 
 as elevating his style? Like Nicolas Poussin, he 
 transports us to the environs of ancient Rome, with 
 all the objects which a literary education makes so 
 precious and interesting to man : or, like Sebastian 
 Bourdon, he leads us to the dark antiquity of the 
 Pyramids of Egypt; or, like Claude Lorrain, he 
 conducts us to the tranquillity of arcadian scenes 
 and fairyland. 
 
 Like the history-painter, a painter of landscapes 
 in this style and with this conduct sends the 
 imagination back into antiquity; and, like the poet, 
 he makes the elements sympathise with his subject ; 
 whether the clouds roll in volumes, like those of 
 Titian or Salvator Rosa, or, like those of Claude, 
 
2i8 The Thirteenth Discourse 
 
 are gilded with the setting sun ; whether the moun- 
 tains have sudden and bold projections, or are 
 gently sloped ; whether the branches of his trees 
 shoot out abruptly in right angles from their trunks, 
 or follow each other with only a gentle inclination. 
 All these circumstances contribute to the general 
 character of the work, whether it be of the elegant, 
 or of the more sublime kind. If we add to this the 
 powerful materials of lightness and darkness, over 
 which the artist has complete dominion, to vary and 
 dispose them as he pleases; to diminish, or increase 
 them, as will best suit his purpose, and correspond 
 to the general idea of his work; a landscape thus 
 conducted, under the influence of a poetical mind, 
 will have the same superiority over the more or- 
 dinary and common views, as Milton's Allegro 
 and Penseroso have over a cold prosaic narration 
 or description ; and such a picture would make a 
 more forcible impression on the mind than the real 
 scenes, were they presented before us. 
 
 If we look abroad to other arts, we may observe 
 the same distinction, the same division into two 
 classes ; each of them acting under the influence of 
 tw^o different principles, in which the one follows 
 nature, the other varies it, and sometimes departs 
 from it. 
 
 The theatre, which is said to hold the mirror up to 
 nature^ comprehends both those ideas. The lower 
 kind of comedy or farce, like the inferior style of 
 painting, the more naturally it is represented, the 
 better ; but the higher appears to me to aim no more 
 at imitation, so far as it belongs to anything like 
 deception, or to expect that the spectators should 
 think that the events there represented are really 
 passing before them, than Raffaelle in his cartoons, 
 or Poussin in his sacraments, expected it to be 
 believed, even for a moment, that what they ex- 
 hibited were real figures. 
 
The Thirteenth Discourse 219 
 
 For want of this distinction, the world is filled 
 with false criticism. Raffaelle is praised for 
 naturalness and deception, which he certainly has not 
 accomplished, and as certainly never intended ; and 
 our late great actor, Garrick, has been as ignorantly 
 praised by his friend Fielding-; who doubtless 
 imagined he had hit upon an ingenious device, by 
 introducing in one of his novels (otherwise a work 
 of the highest merit) an ignorant man, mistaking 
 Garrick's representation of a scene in Hamlet for 
 reality. A very little reflection will convince us, 
 that there is not one circumstance in the whole 
 scene that is of the nature of deception. The merit 
 and excellence of Shakspeare, and of Garrick, when 
 they were engaged in such scenes, is of a different 
 and much higher kind. But what adds to the 
 falsity of this intended compliment is that the 
 best stage-representation appears even more un- 
 natural to a person of such a character, who is 
 supposed never to have seen a play before, than 
 it does to those who have had a habit of allowing 
 for those necessary deviations from nature which 
 the art requires. 
 
 In theatric representation, great allowances must 
 always be made for the place in which the exhibition 
 is represented ; for the surrounding company, the 
 lighted candles, the scenes visibly shifted in your 
 sight, and the language of blank verse, so different 
 from common English ; which merely as English 
 must appear surprising in the mouths of Hamlet, 
 and all the court and natives of Denmark. These 
 allowances are made ; but their being made puts an 
 end to all manner of deception : and further, we 
 know that the more low, illiterate, and vulgar any 
 person is, the less he will be disposed to make these 
 allowances, and of course to be deceived by any 
 imitation ; the things in which the trespass against 
 nature and common probability is made in favour 
 
220 The Thirteenth Discourse 
 
 of the theatre being- quite within the sphere of such 
 uninformed men. 
 
 Thoug-h I have no intention of entering- into all 
 the circumstances of unnaturalness in theatrical 
 representations, I must observe, that even the ex- 
 pression of violent passion is not always the most 
 excellent in proportion as it is the most natural ; so 
 great terror and such disagreeable sensations may be 
 communicated to the audience, that the balance 
 may be destroyed by which pleasure is preserved, 
 and holds its predominance in the mind : violent 
 distortion of action, harsh screamings of the voice, 
 however great the occasion, or however natural on 
 such occasion, are therefore not admissible in the 
 theatric art. Many of these allowed deviations 
 from nature arise from the necessity which there 
 is, that everything- should be raised and enlarged 
 beyond its natural state ; that the full effect may 
 come home to the spectator, which otherwise would 
 be lost in the comparatively extensive space of the 
 theatre. Hence the deliberate and stately step, the 
 studied grace of action, which seems to enlarge the 
 dimensions of the actor, and alone to fill the stage. 
 All this unnaturalness, though right and proper in 
 its place, would appear affected and ridiculous in a 
 private room ; quid enim deformius , quam scenam 
 in vitam trans ferre ? 
 
 And here I must observe, and I believe it may be 
 considered as a general rule, that no art can be 
 engrafted with success on another art. For though 
 they all profess the same origin, and to proceed 
 from the same stock, yet each has its own peculiar 
 modes both of imitating nature, and of deviating- 
 from it, each for the accomplishment of its own 
 particular purpose. These deviations, more es- 
 pecially, will not bear transplantation to another 
 soil. 
 
 If a painter should endeavour to copy the 
 
The Thirteenth Discourse 221 
 
 theatrical pomp and parade of dress and attitude, 
 instead of that simplicity, which is not a greater 
 beauty in life than it is in painting, we should con- 
 demn such pictures, as painted in the meanest 
 style. 
 
 So also gardening, as far as gardening is an art, 
 or entitled to that appellation, is a deviation from 
 nature; for if the true taste consists, as many hold, 
 in banishing every appearance of art, or any traces 
 of the footsteps of man, it would then be no longer 
 a garden. Even though we define it, '* Nature to 
 advantage dress 'd," and in some sense is such, 
 and much more beautiful and commodious for the 
 recreation of man ; it is, however, when so dressed, 
 no longer a subject for the pencil of a landscape- 
 painter, as all landscape-painters know, who love 
 to have recourse to nature herself, and to dress her 
 according to the principles of their own art ; which 
 are far different from those of gardening, even when 
 conducted according to the most approved prin- 
 ciples ; and such as a landscape-painter himself 
 would adopt in the disposition of his own grounds, 
 for his own private satisfaction. 
 
 I have brought together as many instances as 
 appear necessary to make out the several points 
 which I wished to suggest to your consideration in 
 this discourse, that your own thoughts may lead 
 you further in the use that may be made of the 
 analogy of the arts, and of the restraint which a 
 full understanding of the diversity of many of their 
 principles ought to impose on the employment of 
 that analogy. 
 
 The great end of all those arts is, to make an im- 
 pression on the imagination and the feeling. The 
 imitation of nature frequently does this. Some- 
 times it fails, and something else succeeds. I think 
 therefore the true test of all the arts is not solely 
 whether the production is a true copy of nature, but 
 
222 The Thirteenth Discourse 
 
 whether it answers the end of art, which is to pro- 
 duce a pleasing- effect upon the mind. 
 
 It remains only to speak a few words of architec- 
 ture, which does not come under the denomination 
 of an imitative art. It applies itself, like music 
 (and I believe we may add poetry), directly to the 
 imagination, without the intervention of any kind 
 of imitation. 
 
 There is in architecture, as in painting, an inferior 
 branch of art, in which the imagination appears to 
 have no concern. It does not, however, acquire the 
 name of a polite and liberal art, from its usefulness, 
 or administering to our wants or necessities, but 
 from some higher principle : we are sure that in the 
 hands of a man of genius it is capable of inspiring 
 sentiment, and of filling the mind with great and 
 sublime ideas. 
 
 It may be worth the attention of artists to consider 
 what materials are in their hands, that may contri- 
 bute to this end ; and whether this art has it not in 
 its power to address itself to the imagination with 
 effect, by more ways than are generally employed 
 by architects. 
 
 To pass over the effect produced by that general 
 symmetry and proportion, by which the eye is 
 delighted, as the ear is with music, architecture cer- 
 tainly possesses many principles in common with 
 poetry and painting. Among those which may be 
 reckoned as the first is that of affecting the 
 imagination by means of association of ideas. 
 Thus, for instance, as we have naturally a venera- 
 tion for antiquity, whatever building brings to our 
 remembrance ancient customs and manners, such as 
 the castles of the barons of ancient chivalry, is sure 
 to give this delight. Hence it is that towers and 
 hattlements^ are so often selected by the painter and 
 
 * Towers and battlements it sees 
 Bosom 'd high in tufted trees. — Milton, " L 'Allegro." R. 
 
The Thirteenth Discourse 223 
 
 the poet, to make a part of the composition of their 
 ideal landscape ; and it is from hence in a great 
 degree, that in the buildings of Vanbrugh, who was 
 a poet as well as an architect, there is a greater dis- 
 play of imagination than we shall find perhaps in 
 any other, and this is the ground of the effect we feel 
 in many of his works, notwithstanding the faults 
 with which many of them are justly charged. For 
 this purpose, Vanbrugh appears to have had re- 
 course to some of the principles of the Gothic archi- 
 tecture ; which, though not so ancient as the 
 Grecian, is more so to our imagination, with which 
 the artist is more concerned than with absolute truth. 
 
 The barbaric splendour of those Asiatic buildings, 
 which are now publishing by a member of this 
 Academy,^ may possibly, in the same manner, fur- 
 nish an architect, not with models to copy, but with 
 hints of composition and general effect, which would 
 not otherwise have occurred. 
 
 It is, I know, a delicate and hazardous thing (and 
 as such I have already pointed it out), to carry the 
 principles of one art to another, or even to reconcile 
 in one object the various modes of the same art, 
 when they proceed on different principles. The 
 sound rules of the Grecian architecture are not to be 
 lightly sacrificed. A deviation from them, or even 
 an addition to them, is like a deviation or addition 
 to, or from, the rules of other arts, — fit only for a 
 great master, who is thoroughly conversant in the 
 nature of man, as well as all combinations in his own 
 art. 
 
 It may not be amiss for the architect to take 
 advantage sometimes of that to which I am sure the 
 painter ought always to have his eyes open, I mean 
 the use of accidents ; to follow when they lead, and 
 to improve them, rather than always to trust to a 
 regular plan. It often happens that additions have 
 * Mr. Hodges. 
 
224 The Thirteenth Discourse 
 
 been made to houses, at various times, for use or 
 pleasure. As such buildings depart from regularity, 
 they now and then acquire something of scenery by 
 this accident, which I should think might not un- 
 successfully be adopted by an architect, in an 
 original plan, if it does not too much interfere with 
 convenience. Variety and intricacy is a beauty and 
 excellence in every other of the arts which address 
 the imagination ; and why not in architecture? 
 
 The forms and turnings of the streets of London, 
 and other old towns, are produced by accident, with- 
 out any original plan or design ; but they are not 
 always the less pleasant to the walker or spectator, 
 on that account. On the contrary, if the city had 
 been built on the regular plan of Sir Christopher 
 Wren, the effect might have been, as we know it is 
 in some new parts of the town, rather unpleasing; 
 the uniformity might have produced weariness, and 
 a slight degree of disgust. 
 
 I can pretend to no skill in the detail of archi- 
 tecture. I judge now of the art, merely as a painter. 
 When I speak of Vanbrugh, I mean to speak of him 
 in the language of our art. To speak then of Van- 
 brugh in the language of a painter, he had originality 
 -of invention, he understood light and shadow, and 
 had great skill in composition. To support his 
 principal object he produced his second and third 
 groups or masses ; he perfectly understood in his art 
 what is the most difficult in ours, the conduct of the 
 background, by which the design and invention is 
 set off to the greatest advantage. What the back- 
 ground is in painting, in architecture is the real 
 ground on which the building is erected ; and no 
 architect took greater care than he that his work 
 should not appear crude and hard : that is, it did not 
 abruptly start out of the ground without expectation 
 or preparation. 
 
 This is a tribute which a painter owes to an archi- 
 
The Thirteenth Discourse 225 
 
 tect who composed like a painter ; and was defrauded 
 of the due reward of his merit by the wits of his 
 time, who did not understand the principles of com- 
 position in poetry better than he; and who knew 
 little or nothing- of what he understood perfectly, the 
 general ruling- principles of architecture and paint- 
 ing. His fate was that of the great Perrault ; both 
 were the objects of the petulant sarcasms of factious 
 men of letters ; and both have left some of the fairest 
 ornaments which to this day decorate their several 
 countries ; the facade of the Louvre, Blenheim, and 
 Castle Howard. 
 
 Upon the whole, it seems to me, that the object 
 and intention of all the arts is to supply the natural 
 imperfection of things, and often to gratify the mind 
 by realising and embodying what never existed but 
 in the imagination. 
 
 It is allowed on all hands, thac facts and events, 
 however they may bind the historian, have no 
 dominion over the poet or the painter. With us, 
 history is made to bend and conform to this great 
 idea of art. And why? Because these arts, in their 
 highest province, are not addressed to the gross 
 senses, but to the desires of the mind, to that spark 
 of divinity which we have within, impatient of being 
 circumscribed and pent up by the world which is 
 about us. Just so much as our art has of this, just 
 so much of dignity, I had almost said of divinity, 
 it exhibits ; and those of our artists who possessed 
 this mark of distinction in the highest degree 
 acquired from thence the glorious appellation of 
 Divine. 
 
 Q 
 
226 The Fourteenth Discourse 
 
 DISCOURSE XIV 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December lo, 1788. 
 
 Character of Gainsborough ; — His Excellences and Defects. 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 In the study of our art, as in the study of all 
 arts, something is the result of our own observation 
 of nature ; something, and that not Httle, the effect 
 of the example of those who have studied the same 
 nature before us, and who have cultivated before us 
 the same art, with diligence and success. The less 
 we confine ourselves in the choice of those examples, 
 the more advantage we shall derive from them ; and 
 the nearer we shall bring our performances to a 
 correspondence with nature and the great general 
 rules of art. When we draw our examples from 
 remote and revered antiquity, — with some advan- 
 tage undoubtedly in that selection, — we subject 
 ourselves to some inconveniences. We may suffer 
 ourselves to be too much led away by great names, 
 and to be too much subdued by overbearing 
 authority. Our learning, in that case, is not so 
 much an exercise of our judgment, as a proof of our 
 docility. We find ourselves, perhaps, too much 
 overshadowed ; and the character of our pursuits is 
 rather distinguished by the tameness of the follower, 
 than animated by the spirit of emulation. It is 
 sometimes of service, that our examples should be 
 near us ; and such as raise a reverence, sufficient to 
 induce us carefully to observe them, yet not so great 
 as to prevent us from engaging with them in some- 
 thing like a generous contention. 
 
 We have lately lost Mr. Gainsborough, one of the 
 greatest ornaments of our Academy. It is not our 
 business here to make panegyrics on the living,. 
 
The Fourteenth Discourse 227 
 
 or even on the dead who were of our body. The 
 praise of the former might bear appearance of 
 adulation ; and the latter, of untimely justice ; per- 
 haps of envy to those whom we have still the 
 happiness to enjoy, by an oblique suggestion of 
 invidious comparisons. In discoursing therefore on 
 the talents of the late Mr. Gainsborough, my object 
 is, not so much to praise or to blame him, as to 
 draw from his excellences and defects matter of 
 instruction to the students in our Academy. If 
 ever this nation should produce genius sufficient to 
 acquire to us the honourable distinction of an 
 English School, the name of Gainsborough will be 
 transmitted to posterity, in the history of the art, 
 among the very first of that rising name. That our 
 reputation in the arts is now only rising must be 
 acknowledged ; and we must expect our advances 
 to be attended with old prejudices, as adversaries, 
 and not as supporters ; standing in this respect in 
 a very different situation from the late artists of the 
 Roman school, to whose reputation ancient pre- 
 judices have certainly contributed : the way was 
 prepared for them, and they may be said rather to 
 have lived in the reputation of their country, than 
 to have contributed to it ; whilst whatever celebrity 
 is obtained by English artists can arise only from 
 the operation of a fair and true comparison. And 
 when they communicate to their country a share of 
 their reputation, it is a portion of fame not bor- 
 rowed from others, but solely acquired by their own 
 labour and talents. As Italy has undoubtedly a 
 prescriptive right to an administration bordering on 
 prejudice, as a soil peculiarly adapted, congenial, 
 and, we may add, destined to the production of men 
 of great genius in our art, we may not unreasonably 
 suspect that a portion of the great fame of some 
 of their late artists has been owing to the general 
 readiness and disposition of mankind to acquiesce 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 The Fourteenth Discourse 
 
 in their original prepossessions in favour of the 
 productions of the Roman school. 
 
 On this ground, however unsafe, I will venture to 
 prophesy, that two of the last distinguished painters 
 of that country, I mean Pompeio Battoni and 
 Raffaelle Mengs, however great their names may 
 at present sound in our ears, will very soon fall into 
 the rank of Imperiale, Sebastian Concha, Placido 
 Constanza, Massuccio, and the rest of their imme- 
 diate predecessors ; whose names, though equally 
 renowned in their lifetime, are now fallen into what 
 is little short of total oblivion. I do not say that 
 those painters were not superior to the artist I allude 
 to, and whose loss we lament, in a certain routine of 
 practice, which, to the eyes of common observers, 
 has the air of a learned composition, and bears a 
 sort of superficial resemblance to the manner of the 
 great men who went before them. I know this 
 perfectly well; but I know likewise, that a man, 
 looking for real and lasting reputation, must 
 unlearn much of the commonplace method so ob- 
 servable in the works of the artists whom I have 
 named. For my own part, I confess, I take more 
 interest in, and am more captivated with the power- 
 ful impression of nature, which Gainsborough 
 exhibited in his portraits and in his landscapes, and 
 the interesting simplicity and elegance of his little 
 ordinary beggar-children, than with any of the 
 works of that school, since the time of Andrea 
 Sacchi, or perhaps we may say Carlo Maratti, two 
 painters who may truly be said to be Ultimi 
 Romanorum, 
 
 I am well aware how much I lay myself open to 
 the censure and ridicule of the academical professors 
 of other nations, in preferring the humble attempts 
 of Gainsborough to the works of those regular 
 graduates in the great historical style. But we 
 have the sanction of all mankind in preferring 
 
The Fourteenth Discourse 229 
 
 g-enius in a lower rank of art, to feebleness and 
 insipidity in the highest. 
 
 It would not be to the present purpose, even if I 
 had the means and materials, which I have not, to 
 enter into the private life of Mr. Gainsborough. The 
 history of his gradual advancement, and the means 
 by which he acquired such excellence in his art, 
 would come nearer to our purposes and wishes, if 
 it were by any means attainable ; but the slow 
 progress of advancement is in general imperceptible 
 to the man himself who makes it ; it is the conse- 
 quence of an accumulation of various ideas which 
 his mind has received, he does not perhaps know 
 how or when. Sometimes indeed it happens, that 
 he may be able to mark the time when from the 
 sight of a picture, a passage in an author, or a hint 
 in conversation, he has received, as it were, some 
 new and guiding light, something like inspiration, 
 by which his mind has been expanded ; and is 
 morally sure that his whole life and conduct has been 
 affected by that accidental circumstance. Such 
 interesting accounts w^e may, however, sometimes 
 obtain from a man who has acquired an uncommon 
 habit of self-examination, and has attended to the 
 progress of his own improvement. 
 
 It may not be improper to make mention of some 
 of the customs and habits of this extraordinary man ; 
 points which come more within the reach of an 
 observer; I, however, mean such only as are con- 
 nected with his art, and indeed were, as I apprehend, 
 the causes of his arriving to that high degree of 
 excellence, which we see and acknowledge in his 
 works. Of these causes we must state, as the 
 fundamental, the love which he had to his art; to 
 which, indeed, his whole mind appears to have been 
 devoted, and to which everything was referred ; and 
 this we may fairly conclude from various circum- 
 stances of his life, which were known to his inti- 
 
230 The Fourteenth Discourse 
 
 mate friends. Among others he had a habit of con- 
 tinually remarking to those who happened to be 
 about him, whatever peculiarity of countenance, 
 whatever accidental combination of figure, or 
 happy effects of light and shadow, occurred 
 in prospects, in the sky, in walking the streets, 
 or in company. If, in his walks, he found a 
 character that he liked, and whose attendance was 
 to be obtained, he ordered him to his house : and 
 from the fields he brought into his painting-room 
 stumps of trees, weeds, and animals of various 
 kinds ; and designed them, not from memory, but 
 immediately from the objects. He even framed a 
 kind of model of landscapes on his table ; composed 
 of broken stones, dried herbs, and pieces of looking- 
 glass, which he magnified and improved into rocks, 
 trees, and water. How far this latter practice may 
 be useful in giving hints, the professors of landscape 
 can best determine. Like every other technical 
 practice, it seems to me wholly to depend on the 
 general talent of him who uses it. Such methods 
 may be nothing better than contemptible and mis- 
 chievous trifling ; or they may be aids. I think upon 
 the whole, unless we constantly refer to real nature, 
 that practice may be more likely to do harm than 
 good. I mention it only, as it shows the solicitude 
 and extreme activity which he had about everything- 
 that related to his art ; that he wished to have his 
 objects embodied, as it were, and distinctly before 
 him ; that he neglected nothing which could keep his 
 faculties in exercise, and derived hints from every 
 sort of combination. 
 
 We must not forget whilst we are on this subject, 
 to make some remarks on his custom of painting by 
 night, which confirms what I have already men- 
 tioned, — his great affection to his art ; since he could 
 not amuse himself in the evening by any other means 
 so agreeable to himself. I am indeed much in- 
 
The Fourteenth Discourse 231 
 
 clined to believe that it is a practice very advan- 
 tageous and improving- to an artist ; for by this 
 means he will acquire a new and a higher perception 
 of what is great and beautiful in nature. By candle- 
 light, not only objects appear more beautiful, but 
 from their being in a greater breadth of light and 
 shadow, as well as having a greater breadth and 
 uniformity of colour, nature appears in a higher 
 style ; and even the flesh seems to take a higher and 
 richer tone of colour. Judgment is to direct us in 
 the use to be made of this method of study ; but the 
 method itself is, I am very sure, advantageous. I 
 have often imagined that the two great colourists, 
 Titian and Correggio, though I do not know that 
 they painted by night, formed their high ideas of 
 colouring from the effects of objects by this artificial 
 light : but I am more assured, that whoever atten- 
 tively studies the first and best manner of Guercino, 
 will be convinced that he either painted by this light, 
 or formed his manner on this conception. 
 
 Another practice Gainsborough had, which is 
 worth mentioning, as it is certainly worthy of imita- 
 tion ; I mean his manner of forming all the parts of 
 his picture together ; the whole going on at the same 
 time, in the same manner as nature creates her 
 works. Though this method is not uncommon to 
 those who have been regularly educated, yet prob- 
 ably it was sugirested to him by his own natural 
 sagacity. That this custom is not universal appears 
 from the practice of a painter whom I have just 
 mentioned, Pompeio Battoni, who finished his 
 historical pictures part after part; and in his por- 
 traits completely finished one feature before he pro- 
 ceeded to another. The consequence was, as might 
 be expected, the countenance was never well ex- 
 pressed ; and, as the painters say, the whole was 
 not well put together. 
 
 The first thing required to excel in our art, or, I 
 
232 The Fourteenth Discourse 
 
 believe, in any art, is not only a love for it, but even 
 an enthusiastic ambition to excel in it. This never 
 fails of success proportioned to the natural abilities 
 with which the artist has been endowed by Provi- 
 dence. Of Gainsborough, we certainly know, that 
 his passion was not the acquirement of riches, but 
 excellence in his art ; and to enjoy that honourable 
 fame which is sure to attend it. — That he felt this 
 ruling passion strong in death I am myself a wit- 
 ness. A few days before he died, he wrote me a 
 letter, to express his acknowledgments for the good 
 opinion I entertained of his abilities, and the manner 
 in which (he had been informed) I always spoke of 
 him ; and desired he might see me, once more, before 
 he died. I am aware how flattering it is to myself 
 to be thus connected with the dying testimony which 
 this excellent painter bore to his art. But I cannot 
 prevail on myself to suppress, that I was not con- 
 nected with him by any habits of familiarity : if any 
 little jealousies had subsisted between us, they were 
 forgotten in those moments of sincerity ; and he 
 turned towards me as one who was engrossed by the 
 same pursuits, and who deserved his good opinion, 
 by being sensible of his excellence. Without enter- 
 ing into a detail of what passed at this last interview, 
 the impression of it upon my mind was, that his 
 regret at losing life was principally the regret of 
 leaving his art; and more especially as he now 
 began, he said, to see what his deficiencies were; 
 which, he said, he flattered himself in his last works 
 were in some measure supplied. 
 
 When such a man as Gainsborough arrives to 
 great fame, without the assistance of an academical 
 education, without travelling to Italy, or any of 
 those preparatory studies which have been so often 
 recommended, he is produced as an instance, how 
 little such studies are necessary, since so great 
 excellence may be acquired without them. This is 
 
The Fourteenth Discourse 233 
 
 an inference not warranted by the success of any 
 individual ; and I trust it will not be thought that I 
 wish to make this use of it. 
 
 It must be remembered that the style and depart^ 
 ment of art which Gainsborough chose, and in which 
 he so much excelled, did not require that he should 
 go out of his own country for the objects of his 
 study ; they were everywhere about him ; he found 
 them in the streets, and in the fields; and from the 
 models thus accidentally found, he selected with 
 great judgment such as suited his purpose. As his 
 studies were directed to the living world principally, 
 he did not pay a general attention to the works of the 
 various masters, though they are, in my opinion, 
 always of great use, even when the character of our 
 subject requires us to depart from some of their 
 principles. It cannot be denied, that excellence in 
 the department of the art which he professed may 
 exist without them ; that in such subjects, and in the 
 manner that belongs to them, the want of them is 
 supplied, and more than supplied, by natural 
 sagacity, and a minute observation of particular 
 nature. If Gainsborough did not look at nature 
 with a poet's eye, it must be acknowledged that he 
 saw her with the eye of a painter ; and gave a faith- 
 ful, if not a poetical, representation of what he had 
 before him. 
 
 Though he did not much attend to the works of 
 the great historical painters of former ages, yet he 
 was well aware that the language of the art, — the 
 art of imitation, — must be learned somewhere; and 
 as he knew that he could not learn it in an equal 
 degree from his contemporaries, he very judiciously 
 applied himself to the Flemish school, who are un- 
 doubtedly the greatest masters of one necessary 
 branch of art ; and he did not need to go out of his 
 own country for examples of that school : from that 
 he learned the harmony of colouring, the manage- 
 
234 The Fourteenth Discourse 
 
 ment and disposition of light and shadow, and every 
 means which the masters of it practised, to ornament 
 and give splendour to their works. And to satisfy 
 himself as well as others, how well he knew the 
 mechanism and artifice which they employed to 
 bring- out that tone of colour which we so much 
 admired in their works, he occasionally made copies 
 from Rubens, Teniers, and Vandyck, which it 
 would be no disgrace to the most accurate con- 
 noisseur to mistake, at the first sight, for the works 
 of those masters. What he thus learned, he applied 
 to the originals of nature, which he saw with his 
 own eyes ; and imitated, not in the manner of those 
 masters, but in his own. 
 
 Whether he most excelled in portraits, land- 
 scapes, or fancy-pictures, it is diflftcult to determine : 
 whether his portraits were most admirable for exact 
 truth of resemblance, or his landscapes for a por- 
 trait-like representation of nature, such as we see in 
 the works of Rubens, Ruysdaal, and others of those 
 schools. In his fancy-pictures, when he had fixed 
 on his object of imitation, whether it was the mean 
 and vulgar form of a wood-cutter, or a child of an 
 interesting character, as he did not attempt to raise 
 the one, so neither did he lose any of the natural 
 grace and elegance of the other ; such a grace, and 
 such an elegance, as are more frequently found in 
 cottages than in courts. This excellence was his 
 own, the result of his particular observation and 
 taste ; for this he was certainly not indebted to the 
 Flemish school, nor indeed to any school ; for his 
 grace was not academical or antique, but selected by 
 himself from the great school of nature ; and there 
 are yet a thousand modes of grace, which are neither 
 theirs nor his, but lie open in the multiplied scenes 
 and figures of life, to be brought out by skilful and 
 faithful observers. 
 
 Upon the whole, we may justly say, that whatever 
 
The Fourteenth Discourse 235 
 
 he attempted he carried to a high degree of excel- 
 lence. It is to the credit of his good sense and judg- 
 ment that he never did attempt that style of his- 
 torical painting for which his previous studies had 
 made no preparation. 
 
 And here it naturally occurs to oppose the sensible 
 conduct of Gainsborough in this respect to that of 
 our late excellent Hogarth, who, v/ith all his extra- 
 ordinary talents, was not blessed with this know- 
 ledge of his own deficiency or of the bounds which 
 were set to the extent of his own powers. After this 
 admirable artist had spent the greatest part of his 
 life in an active, busy, and, we may add, successful 
 attention to the ridicule of life ; after he had invented 
 a new species of dramatic painting, in which prob- 
 ably he will never be equalled, and had stored his 
 mind with infinite materials to explain and illustrate 
 the domestic and familiar scenes of common life, 
 which were generally, and ought to have been 
 always, the subject of his pencil ; he very impru- 
 dently, or rather presumptuously, attempted the 
 great historical style, for which his previous habits 
 had by no means prepared him : he was indeed so 
 entirely unacquainted with the principles of this 
 style, that he was not even aware that any artificial 
 preparation was at all necessary. It is to be 
 regretted that any part of the life of such a genius 
 should be fruitlessly employed. Let his failure 
 teach us not to indulge ourselves in the vain 
 imagination, that by a momentary resolution we can 
 give either dexterity to the hand, or a new habit to 
 the mind. 
 
 I have, however, little doubt but that the same 
 sagacity which enabled those two extraordinary men 
 to discover their true object, and the peculiar ex- 
 cellence of that branch of art which they cultivated, 
 would have been equally effectual in discovering the 
 principles of the higher style ; if they had investi- 
 
236 The Fourteenth Discourse 
 
 gated those principles with the same eager industry, 
 which they exerted in their own department. As 
 Gainsborough never attempted the heroic style, so 
 neither did he destroy the character and uniformity 
 of his own style, by the idle affectation of intro- 
 ducing mythological learning in any of his pictures. 
 Of this boyish folly we see instances enough, even 
 in the works of great painters. When the Dutch 
 school attempt this poetry of our art in their land- 
 scapes, their performances are beneath criticism ; 
 they become only an object of laughter. This 
 practice is hardly excusable, even in Claude Lorrain, 
 who had shown more discretion, if he had never 
 meddled with such subjects. 
 
 Our late ingenious Academician, Wilson, has I 
 fear, been guilty, like many of his predecessors, of 
 introducing gods and goddesses, ideal beings, into 
 scenes which were by no means prepared to receive 
 such personages. His landscapes were in reality 
 too near common nature to admit supernatural 
 objects. In consequence of this mistake, in a very 
 admirable picture of a storm which I have seen of 
 his hand, many figures are introduced in the fore- 
 ground, some in apparent distress, and some struck 
 dead, as a spectator would naturally suppose, by the 
 lightning ; had not the painter injudiciously (as I 
 think) rather chosen that their death should be im- 
 puted to a little Apollo, who appears in the sky, 
 with his bent bow, and that those figures should be 
 considered as the children of Niobe. 
 
 To manage a subject of this kind, a peculiar style 
 of art is required ; and it can only be done without 
 impropriety, or even without ridicule, when we 
 adapt the character of the landscape, and that too, 
 in all its parts, to the historical or poetical repre- 
 sentation. This is a very difficult adventure, and it 
 requires a mind thrown back two thousand years, 
 and as it were naturalised in antiquity, like that of 
 
The Fourteenth Discourse 237 
 
 Nicolas Poussin, to achieve it. In the picture 
 alluded to, the first idea that presents itself is that 
 of wonder, at seeing- a figure in so uncommon a 
 situation as that in which the Apollo is placed ; for 
 the clouds on which he kneels have not the appear- 
 ance of being able to support him ; they have neither 
 the substance nor the form fit for the receptacle of 
 a human figure; and they do not possess in any 
 respect that romantic character which is appro- 
 priated to such an object, and which alone can 
 harmonise with poetical stories. 
 
 It appears to me that such conduct is no less 
 absurd, than if a plain man, giving a relation of a 
 real distress, occasioned by an inundation accom- 
 panied with thunder and lightning, should, instead 
 of simply relating the event, take it into his head, 
 in order to give a grace to his narration, to talk of 
 Jupiter Pluvius, or Jupiter and his thunder-bolts, or 
 any other figurative idea ; an intermixture which, 
 though in poetry, with its proper preparations and 
 accompaniments, it might be managed with effect, 
 yet in the instance before us would counteract the 
 purpose of the narrator, and instead of being in- 
 teresting, would be only ridiculous. 
 
 The Dutch and Flemish style of landscape, not 
 even excepting those of Rubens, is unfit for poetical 
 subjects ; but to explain in what this ineptitude con- 
 sists, or to point out all the circumstances that give 
 nobleness, grandeur, and the poetic character to 
 style, in landscape, would require a long discourse 
 of itself ; and the end would be then perhaps but im- 
 perfectly attained. The painter who is ambitious of 
 this perilous excellence must catch his inspiration 
 from those who have cultivated with success the 
 poetry, as it may be called, of the art; and they are 
 few indeed. 
 
 I cannot quit this subject w^ithout mentioning two 
 examples which occur to me at present, in which the 
 
238 The Fourteenth Discourse 
 
 poetical style of landscape may be seen happily 
 executed; the one is Jacob's Dream, by Salvator 
 Rosa, and the other the Return of the Ark from 
 Captivity, by Sebastian Bourdon/ With whatever 
 dignity those histories are presented to us in the 
 lang-uag-e of Scripture, this style of painting- 
 possesses the same power of inspiring- sentiments of 
 g-randeur and sublimity, and is able to communicate 
 them to subjects which appear by no means adapted 
 to receive them. A ladder against the sky has no 
 very promising appearance of possessing a capacity 
 to excite any heroic ideas ; and the Ark, in the hands 
 of a second-rate master, would have little more effect 
 than a common waggon on the highway ; yet those 
 subjects are so poetically treated throughout, the 
 parts have such a correspondence with each other, 
 and the whole and every part of the scene is so 
 visionary, that it is impossible to look at them 
 without feeling, in some measure, the enthusiasm 
 which seems to have inspired the painters. 
 
 By continual contemplation of such works, a 
 sense of the higher excellences of art will by 
 degrees dawn on the imagination ; at every review 
 that sense will become more and more assured, until 
 we come to enjoy a sober certainty of the real exist- 
 ence (if I may so express myself) of those almost 
 ideal beauties ; and the artist will then find no diffi- 
 culty in fixing in his mind the principles by which 
 the impression is produced, which he will feel and 
 practise, though they are perhaps too delicate and 
 refined, and too peculiar to the imitative art, to be 
 conveyed to the mind by any other means. 
 
 To return to Gainsborough : the peculiarity of his 
 manner, or style, or we may call it the language in 
 which he expressed his ideas, has been considered by 
 many as his greatest defect. But without alto- 
 
 * This fine picture was in our author's collection ; and 
 was bequeathed by him to Sir George Beaumont, Bart. M. 
 
The Fourteenth Discourse 239 
 
 g-ether wishing to enter into the discussion — whether 
 this pecuHarity was a defect or not, intermixed, as 
 it was, with great beauties, of some of which it was 
 probably the cause — it becomes a proper subject of 
 criticism and inquiry to a painter. 
 
 A novelty and peculiarity of manner, as it is often 
 a cause of our approbation, so likewise it is often 
 a ground of censure ; as being* contrary to the 
 practice of other painters, in whose manner we have 
 been initiated, and in whose favour we have perhaps 
 been prepossessed from our infancy ; for, fond as 
 we are of novelty, we are upon the whole creatures 
 of habit. However, it is certain, that all those odd 
 scratches and marks, which on a close examination 
 are so observable in Gainsborough's pictures, and 
 which even to experienced painters appear rather the 
 effect of accident than design; this chaos, this un- 
 couth and shapeless appearance, by a kind of magic, 
 at a certain distance assumes form, and all the parts 
 seem to drop into their proper places ; so that we 
 can hardly refuse acknowledging the full effect of 
 diligence, under the appearance of chance and 
 hasty negligence. That Gainsborough himself con- 
 sidered this peculiarity in his manner, and the power 
 it possesses of exciting surprise, as a beauty in his 
 works, I think may be inferred from the eager desire 
 which we know he always expressed, that his pic- 
 tures, at the exhibition, should be seen near, as well 
 as at a distance. 
 
 The slightness which we see in his best works can- 
 not always be imputed to negligence. However 
 they may appear to superficial observers, painters 
 know very well that a steady attention to the general 
 effect takes up more time, and is much more 
 laborious to the mind, than any mode of high finish- 
 ing or smoothness, without such attention. His 
 handlinfn;, the manner of leaving the colours^ or, in 
 other words, the methods he used for producing the 
 
240 The Fourteenth Discourse 
 
 effect, had very much the appearance of the work of 
 
 an artist who had never learned from others the 
 usual and regular practice belonging to the art ; but 
 still, like a man of strong intuitive perception of 
 what was required, he found out a way of his own 
 to accomplish his purpose. 
 
 It is no disgrace to the genius of Gainsborough, 
 to compare him to such men as we sometimes meet 
 with, whose natural eloquence appears even in 
 speaking a language which they can scarce be said 
 to understand ; and who, without knowing the 
 appropriate expression of almost any one idea, con- 
 trive to communicate the lively and forcible im- 
 pressions of an energetic mind. 
 
 I think some apology may reasonably be made 
 for his manner, without violating truth, or running 
 any risk of poisoning the minds of the younger 
 students, by propagating false criticism, for the 
 sake of raising the character of a favourite artist. 
 It must be allowed, that this hatching manner of 
 Gainsborough did very much contribute to the light- 
 ness of effect which is so eminent a beauty in his 
 pictures; as, on the contrary, much smoothness, 
 and uniting the colours, is apt to produce heaviness. 
 Every artist must have remarked, how often that 
 lightness of hand which was in his dead-colour, or 
 first painting, escaped in the finishing, when he had 
 determined the parts with more precision : and 
 another loss he often experiences, which is of greater 
 consequence ; whilst he is employed in the detail, the 
 effect of the whole together is either forgotten or 
 neglected. The likeness of a portrait, as I have 
 formerly observed, consists more in preserving the 
 general effect of the countenance, than in the most 
 minute finishing of the features, or any of the par- 
 ticular parts. Now Gainsborough's portraits were 
 often little more, in regard to finishing, or determin- 
 ing the form of the features, than what generally 
 
The Fourteenth Discourse 241 
 
 attends a dead-colour ; but as he was always atten- 
 tive to the general effect, or whole together, I have 
 often imagined that this unfinished manner contri- 
 buted even to that striking resemblance for which 
 his portraits are so remarkable. Though this 
 opinion may be considered as fanciful, yet I think a 
 plausible reason may be given, why such a mode of 
 painting should have such an effect. It is pre- 
 supposed that in this undetermined manner there is 
 the general effect; enough to remind the spectator 
 of the original ; the imagination supplies the rest, 
 and perhaps more satisfactorily to himself, if not 
 more exactly, than the artist, with all his care, could 
 possibly have done. At the same time it must be 
 acknowledged there is one evil attending this 
 mode : that if the portrait were seen, previous to 
 any knowledge of the original, different persons 
 would form different ideas, and all would be dis- 
 appointed at not finding the original correspond 
 with their own conceptions, under the great latitude 
 which indistinctness gives to the imagination to 
 assume almost what character or form it pleases. 
 
 Every artist has some favourite part, on which 
 he fixes his attention, and which he pursues with 
 such eagerness, that it absorbs every other con- 
 sideration ; and he often falls into the opposite error 
 of that which he would avoid, which is always ready 
 to receive him. Now Gainsborough, having truly 
 a painter's eye for colouring, cultivated those effects 
 of the art which proceed from colours ; and some- 
 times appears to be indifferent to or to neglect other 
 excellences. Whatever defects are acknowledged, 
 let him still experience from us the same candour 
 that we so freely give upon similar occasions to the 
 ancient masters ; let us not encourage that fastidious 
 disposition, which is discontented with everything 
 short of perfection, and unreasonably require, as we 
 sometimes do, a union of excellences, not perhaps 
 
 R 
 
242 The Fourteenth Discourse 
 
 quite compatible with each other. — We may, on this 
 ground, say even of the divine Raffaelle, that he 
 might have finished his picture as highly and as 
 correctly as was his custom, without heaviness of 
 manner ; and that Poussin might have preserved all 
 his precision without hardness or dryness. 
 
 To show the difficulty of uniting solidity with 
 lightness of manner, we may produce a picture of 
 Rubens in the Church of St. Judule, at Brussels, as 
 an example ; the subject is Christ's charge to Peter ^ 
 which, as it is the highest, and smoothest, finished 
 picture I remember to have seen of that master, so 
 it is by far the heaviest; and if I had found it in any 
 other place, I should have suspected it to be a copy ; 
 for painters know very well that it is principally by 
 this air of facility, or the want of it, that originals 
 are distinguished from copies. — A lightness of 
 effect, produced by colour, and that produced by 
 facility of handling, are generally united ; a copy 
 may preserve something of the one, it is true, but 
 hardly ever of the other; a connoisseur there- 
 fore finds it often necessary to look carefully 
 into the picture before he determines on its origin- 
 ahty. Gainsborough possessed this quality of light- 
 ness of manner and effect, I think, to an unexampled 
 degree of excellence; but it must be acknowledged, 
 at the same time, that the sacrifice which he made to 
 this ornament of our art was too great ; it was, in 
 reality, preferring the lesser excellences to the 
 greater. 
 
 To conclude. However we may apologise for the 
 deficiencies of Gainsborough (I mean particularly his 
 want of precision and finishing), who so ingeniously 
 contrived to cover his defects by his beauties ; and 
 who cultivated that department of art, where such 
 defects are more easily excused ; you are to remem- 
 ber, that no apology can be made for this deficiency, 
 in that style which this Academy teaches, and which 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 243 
 
 ought to be the object of your pursuit. It will be 
 necessary for you, in the first place, never to lose 
 sight of the great rules and principles of the art, 
 as they are collected from the full body of the best 
 general practice, and the most constant and uniform 
 experience ; this must be the groundwork of all your 
 studies ; afterwards you may profit, as in this case 
 I wish you to profit, by the peculiar experience and 
 personal talents of artists living and dead ; you may 
 derive lights, and catch hints, from their practice ; 
 but the moment you turn them into models, you fall 
 infinitely below them ; you may be corrupted by 
 excellences, not so much belonging to the art, as 
 personal and appropriated to the artist ; and become 
 bad copies of good painters, instead of excellent 
 imitators of the great universal truth of things. 
 
 DISCOURSE XV 
 
 Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the 
 Distribution of the Prizes, December lo, 1790. 
 
 The President takes Leave of the Academy. — A Review of the 
 Discourses. — The Study of the Works of Michael Angelo 
 recommended. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 The intimate connection which I have had with 
 ihe Royal Academy ever since its establishment, the 
 social duties in which we have all mutually engaged 
 for so many years, make any profession of attach- 
 ment to this Institution, on my part, altogether 
 superfluous ; the influence of habit alone in such a 
 connection would naturally have produced it. 
 
 Among men united in the same body, and engaged 
 in the same pursuit, along with permanent friend- 
 ship occasional differences will arise. In these 
 
 R 2 
 
244 The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 disputes men are naturally too favourable to them- 
 selves, and think perhaps too hardly of their 
 antagonists. But composed and constituted as we 
 are, those little contentions will be lost to others, 
 and they ought certainly to be lost amongst our- 
 selves, in mutual esteem for talents and acquire- 
 ments : every controversy ought to be, and I am 
 persuaded will be, sunk in our zeal for the perfection 
 of our common art. 
 
 In parting with the Academy, I shall remember 
 with pride, affection, and gratitude, the support with 
 which I have almost uniformly been honoured from 
 the commencement of our intercourse. I shall leave 
 you, gentlemen, with unaffected cordial wishes for 
 your future concord, and with a well-founded hope, 
 that in that concord the auspicious and not obscure 
 origin of our Academy may be forgotten in the 
 splendour of your succeeding prospects. 
 
 My age, and my infirmities still more than my 
 age, make it probable that this will be the last time 
 I shall have the honour of addressing you from this 
 place. Excluded as I am, spatiis miquiSy from in- 
 dulging- my imagination with a distant and forward 
 perspective of life, I may be excused if I turn my 
 eyes back on the way which I have passed. 
 
 We may assume to ourselves, I should hope, the 
 credit of having endeavoured, at least, to fill with 
 propriety that middle station which we hold in the 
 general connection of things. Our predecessors 
 have laboured for our advantage, we labour for our 
 successors; and though we have done no more in 
 this mutual intercourse and reciprocation of benefits, 
 than has been effected by other societies formed in 
 this nation for the advancement of useful and 
 ornamental knowledge, yet there is one circum- 
 stance which appears to give us a higher claim 
 than the credit of merely doing our duty. ^ What I 
 at present allude to, is the honour of having been, 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 245 
 
 some of us the first contrivers, and all of us the 
 promoters and supporters, of the annual exhibition. 
 This scheme could only have orig^inated from artists 
 already in possession of the favour of the public, 
 as it would not have been so much in the power of 
 others to have excited curiosity. It must be re- 
 membered, that for the sake of bringing forward 
 into notice concealed merit, they incurred the risk 
 of producing- rivals to themselves ; they voluntarily 
 entered the lists, and ran the race a second time 
 for the prize which they had already won. 
 
 When we take a review of the several depart- 
 ments of the Institution, I think we may safely 
 cong-ratulate ourselves on our g-ood fortune in hav- 
 ing- hitherto seen the chairs of our professors filled 
 with men of disting-uished abilities, and who have so 
 well acquitted themselves of their duty in their 
 several departments. I look upon it to be of im- 
 portance, that none of them should be ever left 
 unfilled: a neglect to provide for qualified persons 
 is to produce a neglect of qualifications. 
 
 In this honourable rank of professors, I have not 
 presumed to class myself ; though in the discourses 
 which I have had the honour of delivering from 
 this place, while in one respect I may be considered 
 as a volunteer, in another view it seems as if I was 
 involuntarily pressed into this service. If prizes 
 were to be given, it appeared not only proper, but 
 almost indispensably necessary, that something 
 should be said by the President on the delivery of 
 those prizes : and the President for his own credit 
 would wish to say something more than mere words 
 of compliment, which, by being frequently repeated, 
 would soon become flat and uninteresting, and by 
 being uttered to many, would at last become a dis- 
 tinction to none : I thought, therefore, if I were to 
 preface this compliment with some instructive ob- 
 servations on the art, when we crowned merit in the 
 
246 The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 artists whom we rewarded, I might do something to 
 animate and guide them in their future attempts. 
 
 I am truly sensible how unequal I have been to 
 the expression of my own ideas. To develop the 
 latent excellences, and draw out the interior prin- 
 ciples, of our art, requires more skill and practice in 
 writing, than is likely to be possessed by a man 
 perpetually occupied in the use of the pencil and the 
 palette. It is for that reason, perhaps, that the sister 
 art has had the advantage of better criticism. Poets 
 are naturally writers of prose. They may be said 
 to be practising only an inferior department of their 
 own art, when they are explaining and expatiating 
 upon its most refined principles. But still such 
 difficulties ought not to deter artists who are not 
 prevented by other engagements from putting their 
 thoughts in order as well as they can, and from 
 giving to the public the result of their experience. 
 The knowledge which an artist has of his subject 
 will more than compensate for any want of elegance 
 in the manner of treating it, or even of perspicuity^ 
 which is still more essential ; and I am convinced 
 that one short essay written by a painter will con- 
 tribute more to advance the theory of our art, than 
 a thousand volumes such as we sometimes see; the 
 purpose of which appears to be rather to display the 
 refinement of the author's own conceptions of im- 
 possible practice, than to convey useful knowledgfe 
 or instruction of any kind whatever. An artist 
 knows what is, and what is not, within the province 
 of his art to perform ; and is not likely to be for ever 
 teasing the poor student with the beauties of mixed 
 passions, or to perplex him with an imap-inary union 
 of excellences incompatible with each other. 
 
 To this work, however, I could not be said to come 
 totally unprovided with materials. I had seen 
 much, and I had thought much upon what I had 
 seen; I had something of a habit of investigation;, 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 247 
 
 and a disposition to reduce all that I observed and 
 felt in my own mind to method and system ; but 
 never having seen what I myself knew, distinctly 
 placed before me on paper, I knew nothing- cor- 
 rectly. To put those ideas into something like order 
 was, to my inexperience, no easy task. The com- 
 position, the ponere totum even of a single 
 discourse, as well as of a single statue, was the 
 most difficult part, as perhaps it is of every other 
 art, and most requires the hand of a master. 
 
 For the manner, whatever deficiency there was, I 
 might reasonably expect indulgence ; but I thought 
 it indispensably necessary well to consider the 
 opinions which were to be given out from this place, 
 and under the sanction of a Royal Academy. I 
 therefore examined not only my own opinions, but 
 likewise the opinions of others. I found in the 
 course of this research many precepts and rules 
 established in our art, which did not seem to me 
 altogether reconcilable with each other, yet each 
 seemed in itself to have the same claim of being 
 supported by truth and nature; and this claim, 
 irreconcilable as they may be thought, they do in 
 reality alike possess. 
 
 To clear away those difficulties, and reconcile 
 those contrary opinions, it became necessary to dis- 
 tinguish the greater truth, as it may be called, from 
 the lesser truth ; the larger and more liberal idea of 
 nature from the more narrow and confined ; that 
 which addresses itself to the imagination, from that 
 which is solely addressed to the eye. In conse- 
 quence of this discrimination, the different branches 
 of our art, to which those different truths were 
 referred, were perceived to make so wide a separa- 
 tion, and put on so new an appearance, that they 
 seemed scarcely to have proceeded from the same 
 general stock. The different rules and regulations, 
 which presided over each department of art, fol- 
 
248 The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 lowed of course : every mode of excellence, from 
 the grand style of the Roman and Florentine schools 
 down to the lowest rank of still-life, had its due 
 weight and value, — fitted some class or other ; and 
 nothing was thrown away. By this disposition of 
 our art into classes, that perplexity and confusion, 
 which 1 apprehend every artist has at some time 
 experienced from the variety of styles, and the 
 variety of excellence with which he is surrounded, 
 is, I should hope, in some measure removed, and 
 the student better enabled to judge for himself, what 
 peculiarly belongs to his own particular pursuit. 
 
 In reviewing my discourses, it is no small satis- 
 faction to be assured that I have, in no part of them, 
 lent my assistance to foster neivly-hatched unfledged 
 opinions, or endeavoured to support paradoxes, 
 however tempting may have been their novelty ; or 
 however ingenious I might, for the minute, fancy 
 them to be; nor shall I, I hope, anywhere be found 
 to have imposed on the minds of young students 
 declamation for argument, a smooth period for a 
 sound precept. I have pursued a plain and honest 
 method ; I have taken up the art simply as I found 
 it exemplified in the practice of the most approved 
 painters. That approbation which the world has 
 uniformly given, I have endeavoured to justify by 
 such proofs as questions of this kind will admit; by 
 the analogy which painting holds with the sister 
 arts, and consequently by the common congeniality 
 which they all bear to our nature. And though in 
 what has been done no new discovery is pretended, 
 I may still flatter myself, that from the discoveries 
 which others have made by their own intuitive good 
 sense and native rectitude of judgment, I have suc- 
 ceeded in establishing the rules and principles of 
 our art on a more firm and lasting foundation than 
 that on which they had formerly been placed. 
 
 Without wishing to divert the student from the 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 249 
 
 practice of his art to speculative theory, to make 
 him a mere connoisseur instead of a painter, I can- 
 not but remark, that he will certainly find an account 
 in considering- once for all, on what ground the 
 fabric of our art is built. Uncertain, confused, or 
 erroneous opinions are not only detrimental to an 
 artist in their immediate operation, but may pos- 
 sibly have very serious consequences ; affect his 
 conduct, and give a peculiar character (as it may be 
 calledj to his taste, and to his pursuits, through his 
 whole life. 
 
 I was acquainted at Rome, in the early part of my 
 life, with a student of the French Academy, who 
 appeared to me to possess all the qualities requisite 
 to make a great artist, if he had suffered his taste 
 and feelings, and I may add even his prejudices, to 
 have fair play. He saw and felt the excellences of 
 the great works of art with which w^e were sur- 
 rounded, but lamented that there was not to be 
 found that nature which is so admirable in the in- 
 ferior schools ; and he supposed with Felibien, Du 
 Piles, and other Theorists, that such a union of 
 different excellences would be the perfection of art. 
 He was not aware, that the narrow idea of nature, 
 of which he lamented the absence in the works of 
 those great artists, would have destroyed the 
 grandeur of the general ideas which he admired, 
 and which was indeed the cause of his admiration. 
 My opinions being then confused and unsettled, I 
 was in danger of being borne down by this kind of 
 plausible reasoning, though I remember I then had 
 a dawning of suspicion that it was not sound doc^ 
 trine; and at the same time I was unwilling 
 obstinately to refuse assent to what I was unable- 
 to confute. 
 
 That the young artist may not be seduced from the 
 right path, by following what, at first view, he may 
 think the light of reason and which is indeed reason 
 
250 The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 in part, but not in the whole, has been much the 
 object of these discourses. 
 
 I have taken every opportunity of recommending 
 a rational method of study, as of the last importance. 
 The great, I may say the sole, use of an academy is, 
 to put, and for some time to keep, the students in 
 that course, that too much indulgence may not be 
 given to peculiarity, and that a young man may not 
 be taught to believe that what is generally good for 
 others is not good for him. 
 
 I have strongly inculcated in my former dis- 
 courses, as I do in this my last, the wisdom and 
 necessity of previously obtaining the appropriated 
 instruments of the art, in a first correct design and 
 a plain manly colouring, before anything more is 
 attempted. But by this I would not wish to cramp 
 and fetter the mind, or discourage those who follow 
 (as most of us may at one time have followed) the 
 suggestion of a strong inclination : something must 
 be conceded to great and irresistible impulses : per- 
 haps every student must not be strictly bound to 
 general methods, if they strongly thwart the 
 peculiar turn of his own mind. I must confess that 
 jit is not absolutely of much consequence, whether he 
 proceeds in the general method of seeking first to 
 acquire mechanical accuracy, before he attempts 
 poetical flights, provided he diligently studies to 
 attain the full perfection of the style he pursues ; 
 whether, like Parmeggiano, he endeavours at grace 
 and grandeur of manner before he has learned 
 correctness of drawing, if, like him, he fecJs his own 
 wants, and will labour, as that eminent artist did, 
 to supply those wants ; whether he starts from the 
 east or from the west, if he relaxes in no exertion to 
 arrive ultimately at the same goal. The first public 
 work of Parmeggiano is the St. Eustachius, in the 
 Church of St. Petronius in Bologna, and was done 
 when he was a boy ; and one of the last of his works 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 251 
 
 is the Moses breaking- the Tables, in Parma. In the 
 former there is certainly something- of grandeur in 
 the outline, or in the conception of the figure, which 
 discovers the dawnings of future greatness ; of a 
 young mind impregnated with the sublimity of 
 Michael Angelo, whose style he here attempts to 
 imitate, though he could not then draw the human 
 figure with any common degree of correctness. But 
 this same Parmeggiano, when in his more mature 
 age he painted the Moses, had so completely sup- 
 plied his first defects, that we are here at a loss 
 which to admire most, the correctness of drawing, 
 or the grandeur of the conception. As a confirma- 
 tion of its great excellence, and of the impression 
 which it leaves on the minds of elegant spectators, 
 I may observe, that our great lyric poet, when he 
 conceived his sublime idea of the indignant Welsh 
 bard, acknowledged, that though many years had 
 intervened, he had warmed his imagination with the 
 remembrance of this noble figure of Parmeggiano. 
 
 When we consider that Michael Angelo was the 
 great archetype to whom Parmeggiano was indebted 
 for that grandeur which we find in his works, and 
 from whom all his contemporaries and successors 
 have derived whatever they have possessed of the 
 dignified and the majestic ; that he was the bright 
 luminary, from whom painting has borrowed a new 
 lustre ; that under his hands it assumed a new ap- 
 pearance, and is become another and superior art ; 
 I may be excused if I take this opportunity, as I have 
 hitherto taken every occasion, to turn your attention 
 to this exalted founder and father of modern art, of 
 which he was not only the inventor, but which, by 
 the divine energy of his own mind, he carried at once 
 to its highest point of possible perfection. 
 
 The sudden maturity to which Michael Angelo 
 brought our art, and the comparative feebleness 
 of his followers and imitators, might perhaps be 
 
252 The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 reasonably, at least plausibly explained, if we had 
 time for such an examination. At present I shall 
 only observe, that the subordinate parts of our art, 
 and perhaps of other arts, expand themselves by a 
 slow and progressive growth; but those which 
 depend on a native vigour of imagination generally 
 burst forth at once in fulness of beauty. Of this 
 Homer probably, and Shakespeare most assuredly, 
 are signal examples. Michael Angelo possessed 
 the poetical part of our art in a most eminent 
 degree : and the same daring spirit, which urged him 
 first to explore the unknown regions of the imagina- 
 tion, delighted with the novelty, and animated by 
 the success of his discoveries, could not have failed 
 to stimulate and impel him forward in his career 
 beyond those limits which his followers, destitute 
 of the same incentives, had not strength to pass. 
 
 To distinguish between correctness of drawing, 
 and that part which respects the imagination, we 
 may say the one approaches to the mechanical 
 (which in its way too may make just pretensions to 
 genius) and the other to the poetical. To encourage 
 a solid and vigorous course of study, it may not be 
 amiss to suggest, that perhaps a confidence in the 
 mechanic produces a boldness in the poetic. He 
 that is sure of the goodness of his ship and tackle, 
 puts out fearlessly from the shore ; and he who 
 knows that his hand can execute whatever his fancy 
 can suggest, sports with more freedom in embody- 
 ing the visionary forms of his own creation. I will 
 not say Michael Angelo was eminently poetical, 
 only because he was greatly mechanical ; but I am 
 sure that mechanic excellence invigorated and em- 
 boldened his mind to carry painting into the regions 
 of poetry, and to emulate that art in its most 
 adventurous flights. Michael Angelo equally pos- 
 sessed both qualifications. Yet of mechanic excel- 
 lence there were certainly great examples to be found 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 253 
 
 in ancient sculpture, and particularly in the frag- 
 ment known by the name of the Torso of Michael 
 Angelo ; but of that grandeur of character, air, and 
 attitude, which he threw into all his figures, and 
 which so well corresponds with the grandeur of his 
 outline, there was no example ; it could therefore 
 proceed only from the most poetical and sublime 
 imagination. 
 
 It is impossible not to express some surprise, that 
 the race of painters who preceded Michael Angelo, 
 men of acknowledged great abilities, should never 
 have thought of transferring a little of that grandeur 
 of outline which they could not but see and admire 
 in ancient sculpture, into their own works ; but 
 they appear to have considered sculpture as the later 
 schools of artists look at the inventions of Michael 
 Angelo, — as something to be admired, but with 
 which they have nothing to do : quod super noSy 
 nihil ad nos. — The artists of that age, even Raffaelle 
 himself, seemed to be going on very contentedly in 
 the dry manner of Pietro Perugino ; and if Michael 
 Angelo had never appeared, the art might still have 
 continued in the same style. 
 
 Besides Rome and Florence, where the grandeur of 
 this style was first displayed, it was on this founda- 
 tion that the Caracci built the truly great academical 
 Bolognian school, of which the first stone was laid 
 by Pellegrino Tibaldi. He first introduced this style 
 amongst them ; and many instances might be given 
 in which he appears to have possessed, as by inherit- 
 ance, the true, genuine, noble, and elevated mind 
 of Michael Angelo. Though we cannot venture to 
 speak of him with the same fondness as his country- 
 men, and call him, as the Caracci did, Nostro 
 Michael Angelo rijormato, yet he has a right to be 
 considered amongst the first and greatest of his 
 followers : there are certainly many drawings and 
 inventions of his, of which Michael Angelo himself 
 
254 The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 might not disdain to be supposed the author, or that 
 they should be, as in fact they often are, mistaken 
 for his. I will mention one particular instance, 
 because it is found in a book which is in every 
 young- artist's hands — Bishop's Ancient Statues, 
 He there has introduced a print, representing Poly- 
 phemus, from a drawing of Tibaldi, and has in- 
 scribed it with the name of Michael Angelo, to whom 
 he has also in the same book attributed a Sibyl of 
 Raffaelle. Both these figures, it is true, are pro- 
 fessedly in Michael Angelo 's style and spirit, and 
 even worthy of his hand. But we know that the 
 former is painted in the Institute a Bolop^na by 
 Tibaldi, and the other in the Pace by Raffaelle. 
 
 The Caracci, it is acknowledged, adopted the 
 mechanical part with sufficient success. But the 
 divine part which addresses itself to the imagination, 
 as possessed by Michael Angelo or Tibaldi, was 
 beyond their grasp : they formed, however, a most 
 respectable school, a style more on the level, and 
 calculated to please a greater number ; and if excel- 
 lence of this kind is to be valued according to the 
 number rather than the weight and quality of 
 admirers, it would assume even a higher rank in art. 
 The same, in some sort, may be said of Tintoret, 
 Paolo Veronese, and others of the Venetian painters. 
 They certainly much advanced the dignity of their 
 style by adding to their fascinating powers of colour- 
 ing something of the strength of Michael Angelo ; 
 at the same time it may still be a doubt, how far their 
 ornamental elegance would be an advantageous addi- 
 tion to his grandeur. But if there is any manner of 
 painting which may be said to unite kindly with his 
 style, it is that of Titian. His handling, the manner 
 in which his colours are left on the canvas, appears 
 to proceed (as far as that goes) from a congenial 
 mind, equally disdainful of vulgar criticism. 
 
 Michael Angelo 's strength thus qualified, and 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 255 
 
 made more palatable to the general taste, reminds 
 me of an observation which I heard a learned critic ^ 
 make, when it was incidentally remarked that our 
 translation of Homer, however excellent, did not 
 convey the character, nor had the grand air of the 
 original. He replied that if Pope had not clothed 
 the naked majesty of Homer with the graces and 
 elegances of modern fashions — though the real 
 dignity of Homer was degraded by such a dress — 
 his translation would not have met with such a 
 favourable reception, and he must have been con- 
 tented with fewer readers. 
 
 Many of the Flemish painters, who studied at 
 Rome in that great era of our art, such as Francis 
 Floris, Hemskerk, Michael Coxis, Jerom Cock, and 
 others, returned to their own country with as much 
 of this grandeur as they could carry. But, like seeds 
 falling on a soil not prepared or adapted to their 
 nature, the manner of Michael Angelo thrived but 
 little with them ; perhaps, however, they contributed 
 to prepare the way for that free, unconstrained, and 
 liberal outline, which was afterwards introduced 
 by Rubens, through the medium of the Venetian 
 painters. 
 
 This grandeur of style has been in different 
 degrees disseminated over all Europe. Some 
 caught it by living at the time, and coming into 
 contact with the original author, whilst others re- 
 ceived it at second hand ; and being everywhere 
 adopted, it has totally changed the whole taste and 
 style of design, if there could be said to be any style 
 before his time. Our art, in consequence, now 
 assumes a rank to which it could never have dared 
 to aspire, if Michael Angelo had not discovered to 
 the world the hidden powers which it possessed. 
 Without his assistance we never could have been 
 convinced that painting was capable of producing an 
 1 Dr. Johnson. 
 
256 The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 adequate representation of the persons and actions of 
 the heroes of the Iliad. 
 
 I would ask any man qualified to judge of such 
 works, whether he can look with indifference at the 
 personification of the Supreme Being- in the centre 
 of the Capella Sestina, or the figures of the Sibyls 
 which surround that chapel, to which we may add 
 the statue of Moses ; and whether the same sensa- 
 tions are not excited by those works, as what he may 
 remember to have felt from the most sublime pass- 
 ages of Homer? I mention those figures more par- 
 ticularly, as they come nearer to a comparison with 
 his Jupiter, his demi-gods, and heroes; those Sibyls 
 and prophets being a kind of intermediate beings 
 between men and angels. Though instances may 
 be produced in the works of other painters, which 
 may justly stand in competition with those I have 
 mentioned, such as the Isaiah and the vision of 
 Ezekiel, by Raffaelle, the St. Mark of Frate Barto- 
 lommeo, and many others ; yet these, it must be 
 allowed, are inventions so much in Michael Angelo's 
 manner of thinking, that they may be truly con- 
 sidered as so many rays, which discover manifestly 
 the centre from whence they emanated. 
 
 The sublime in painting, as in poetry, so over- 
 powers, and takes such a possession of the whole 
 mind, that no room is left for attention to minute 
 criticism. The little elegances of art, in the pre- 
 sence of these great ideas thus greatly expressed, 
 lose all their value, and are, for the instant at least, 
 felt to be unworthy of our notice. The correct 
 judgment, the purity of taste, which characterise 
 Raffaelle, the exquisite grace of Correggio and Par- 
 meggiano, all disappear before them. 
 
 That Michael Angelo was capricious in his inven- 
 tions cannot be denied ; and this may make some 
 circumspection necessary in studying his works ; for 
 though they appear to become him, an imitation of 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 257 
 
 them is always dangerous, and will prove sometimes 
 ridiculous. Within that circle none durst walk 
 but he/* To me, I confess, his caprice does not 
 lower the estimation of his genius, even though it is 
 sometimes, I acknowledge, carried to the extreme : 
 and however those eccentric excursions are con- 
 sidered, we must at the same time recollect, that 
 those faults, if they are faults, are such as never 
 could occur to a mean and vulgar mind : that they 
 flowed from the same source which produced his 
 greatest beauties, and were therefore such as none 
 but himself was capable of committing : they were 
 the powerful impulses of a mind unused to subjec- 
 tion of any kind, and too high to be controlled by 
 cold criticism. 
 
 Many see his daring extravagance who can see 
 nothing else. A young artist finds the works of 
 Michael Angelo so totally different from those of his 
 own master, or of those with whom he is surrounded, 
 that he may be easily persuaded to abandon and 
 neglect studying a style which appears to him wild, 
 mysterious, and above his comprehension, and which 
 he therefore feels no disposition to admire ; a good 
 disposition, which he concludes that he should 
 naturally have, if the style deserved it. It is neces- 
 sary therefore that students should be prepared for 
 the disappointment which they may experience at 
 their first setting out ; and they must be cautioned, 
 that probably they will not, at first sight, approve. 
 
 It must be remembered that this great style 
 itself is artificial in the highest degree ; it pre- 
 supposes in the spectator a cultivated and prepared 
 artificial state of mind. It is an absurdity therefore 
 to suppose that we are born with this taste, though 
 we are with the seeds of it, which, by the heat 
 and kindly influence of his genius, may be ripened 
 in us. 
 
 S 
 
258 The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 A late philosopher and critic^ has observed, speak- 
 ing of taste, that we are on no account to expect that 
 fine things should descend to us — our taste, if 
 possible, must be made to ascend to them. The 
 same learned writer recommends to us even to feign 
 a relish y till we find a relish come ; and feel, that what 
 began in fiction^ terminates in reality. If there be 
 in our art anything of that agreement or compact, 
 such as I apprehend there is in music, with which 
 the critic is necessarily required previously to be 
 acquainted, in order to form a correct judgment : the 
 comparison with this art will illustrate what I have 
 said on these points, and tend to show the proba- 
 bility, we may say the certainty, that men are not 
 born with a relish for those arts in their most refined 
 state, which as they cannot understand, they cannot 
 be impressed with their effects. This great style of 
 Michael Angelo is as far removed from the simple 
 representation of the common objects of nature, as 
 the most refined Italian music is from the inartificial 
 notes of nature, from whence they both profess to 
 originate. But without such a supposed compact, 
 we may be very confident that the highest state of 
 refinement in either of those arts will not be relished 
 without a long and industrious attention. 
 
 In pursuing this great art, it must be acknow- 
 ledged that we labour under greater difficulties than 
 those who were born in the age of its discovery, and 
 whose minds from their infancy were habituated to 
 this style ; who learned it as language, as their mother 
 tongue. They had no mean taste to unlearn ; they 
 needed no persuasive discourse to allure them to a 
 favourable reception of it, no abstruse investigation 
 of its principles to convince them of the great latent 
 truths on which it is founded. We are constrained, 
 in these latter days, to have recourse to a sort of 
 ^ James Harris, Esq. R. 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 259 
 
 grammar and dictionary, as the only means of re- 
 covering a dead language. It was by them learned 
 by rote, and perhaps better learned that way than 
 by precept. 
 
 The style of Michael Angelo, which I have com- 
 pared to language, and which may, poetically speak- 
 ing, be called the language of the gods, now no 
 longer exists, as it did in the fifteenth century ; yet, 
 with the aid of diligence, we may in a great measure 
 supply the deficiency which I mentioned — of not 
 having his works so perpetually before our eyes — by 
 having recourse to casts from his models and designs 
 in sculpture; to drawings or even copies of those 
 drawings; to prints, which, however ill executed, 
 still convey something by which this taste may be 
 formed, and a relish may be fixed and established in 
 our minds for this grand style of invention. Some 
 examples of this kind we have in the Academy ; and 
 I sincerely wish there were more, that the younger 
 students might in their first nourishment imbibe this 
 taste ; whilst others, though settled in the practice of 
 the commonplace style of painters, might infuse, by 
 this means, a grandeur into their works. 
 
 r shall now make some remarks on the course 
 which I think most proper to be pursued in such a 
 study. I wish you not to go so much to the deriva- 
 tive streams, as to the fountain-head ; though the 
 copies are not to be neglected ; because they may 
 give you hints in what manner you may copy, and 
 how the genius of one man may be made to fit the 
 peculiar manner of another. 
 
 To recover this lost taste, I would recommend 
 young artists to study the works of Michael Angelo, 
 as he himself did the works of the ancient sculptors ; 
 he began, when a child, a copy of a mutilated Satyr's 
 head, and finished in his model what was wanting in 
 the original. In the same manner, the first exercise 
 
26o The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 that I would recommend to the young artist when he 
 first attempts invention is to select every figure, if 
 possible, from the inventions of Michael Angelo. If 
 such borrowed figures will not bend to his purpose, 
 and he is constrained to make a change to supply a 
 figure himself, that figure will necessarily be in the 
 same style with the rest ; and his taste will by this 
 means be naturally initiated, and nursed in the lap 
 of grandeur. He will sooner perceive what con- 
 stitutes this grand style by one practical trial than by 
 a thousand speculations, and he will in some sort 
 procure to himself that advantage which in these 
 later ages has been denied him, the advantage of 
 having the greatest of artists for his master and 
 instructor. 
 
 The next lesson should be, to change the purpose 
 of the figures without changing the attitude, as 
 Tintoret has done with the Samson of Michael 
 Angelo. Instead of the figure which Samson be- 
 strides, he has placed an eagle under him ; and 
 instead of the jaw-bone, thunder and lightning in 
 his right hand ; and thus it becomes a Jupiter. 
 Titian, in the same manner, has taken the figure 
 which represents God dividing the light from the 
 darkness in the vault of the Capella Sestina, and has 
 introduced it in the famous Battle of Cadore, so much 
 celebrated by Vasari ; and, extraordinary as it may 
 seem, it is here converted to a general falling from 
 his horse. A real judge who should look at this 
 picture would immediately pronounce the attitude of 
 that figure to be in a greater style than any other 
 figure of the composition. These two instances may 
 be sufficient, though many more might be given in 
 their works, as well as in those of other great artists. 
 
 When the student has been habituated to this 
 grand conception of the art, when the relish for this 
 style is established, makes a part of himself, and is 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 261 
 
 woven into his mind, he will, by this time, have got 
 a power of selecting from whatever occurs in nature 
 that is grand, and corresponds with that taste which 
 he has now acquired ; and will pass over whatever is 
 commonplace and insipid. He may then bring to 
 the mart such works of his own proper invention as 
 may enrich and increase the general stock of inven- 
 tion in our art. 
 
 I am confident of the truth and propriety of the 
 advice which I have recommended ; at the same time 
 I am aware, how much by this advice I have laid 
 myself open to the sarcasms of those critics who 
 imagine our art to be a matter of inspiration. But I 
 should be sorry it should appear even to myself that 
 I wanted that courage which I have recomm^ended 
 to the students in another way : equal courage per- 
 haps is required in the adviser and the advised ; they 
 both must equally dare and bid defiance to narrow 
 criticism and vulgar opinion. 
 
 That the art has been in a gradual state of decline, 
 from the age of Michael Angelo to the present, must 
 be acknowledged ; and we may reasonably impute 
 this declension to the same cause to which the 
 ancient critics and philosophers have imputed the 
 corruption of eloquence. Indeed the same causes 
 are likely at all times and in all ages to produce the 
 same effects : indolence, — not taking the same pains 
 as our great predecessors took, — desiring to find a 
 shorter way, — are the general imputed causes. The 
 words of Petronius^ are very remarkable. After 
 opposing the natural chaste beauty of the eloquence 
 of former ages to the strained inflated style then in 
 fashion, Neither," says he, has the art in paint- 
 ing had a better fate, after the boldness of the 
 
 ^ Pictura quoque non alium exitum fecit, postquam 
 ^gyptiorum audacia tarn magnae artis compendiariam in- 
 venit. R. 
 
262 The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 Egyptians had found out a compendious way to 
 execute so great an art.'* 
 
 By compendious y I understand him to mean a 
 mode of painting, such as has infected the style of 
 the later painters of Italy and France ; commonplace, 
 without thought, and with as little trouble, working 
 as by a receipt ; in contradistinction to that style for 
 which even a relish cannot be acquired without care 
 and long attention, and most certainly the power of 
 executing cannot be obtained without the most 
 laborious application. 
 
 I have endeavoured to stimulate the ambition of 
 artists to tread in this great path of glory, and, as 
 well as I can, have pointed out the track which leads 
 to it, and have at the same time told them the price 
 at which it may be obtained. It is an ancient saying 
 that labour is the price which the gods have set upon 
 everything valuable. 
 
 The great artist who has been so much the subject 
 of the present discourse was distinguished even 
 from his infancy for his indefatigable diligence ; and 
 this was continued through his whole life, till pre- 
 vented by extreme old age. The poorest of men, as 
 he observed himself, did not labour from necessity, 
 more than he did from choice. Indeed, from all the 
 circumstances related of his life, he appears not to 
 have had the least conception that his art was to be 
 acquired by any other means than great labour ; and 
 yet he, of all men that ever lived, might make the 
 greatest pretensions to the efficacy of native genius 
 and inspiration. I have no doubt that he would have 
 thought it no disgrace, that it should be said of him, 
 as he himself said of Raffaelle, that he did not 
 possess his art from nature, but by long study. ^ He 
 was conscious that the great excellence to which he 
 
 ^ Che Raffaelle non ebbe quest' arte da natura^ ma pei 
 longo studio, R. 
 
The Fifteenth Discourse 263 
 
 arrived was gained by dint of labour, and was un- 
 willing to have it thought that any transcendent 
 skill, however natural its effects might seem, could 
 be purchased at a cheaper price than he had paid for 
 it. This seems to have been the true drift of his 
 observation. We cannot suppose it made with any 
 intention of depreciating the genius of Raffaelle, of 
 whom he always spoke, as Condivi says, with the 
 greatest respect : though they were rivals, no such 
 illiberality existed between them ; and Raffaelle on 
 his part entertained the greatest veneration for 
 Michael Angelo, as appears from the speech which is 
 recorded of him, that he congratulated himself, and 
 thanked God, that he was born in the same age with 
 that painter. 
 
 If the high esteem and veneration, in which 
 Michael Angelo has been held by all nations and in 
 all ages, should be put to the account of prejudice, 
 it must still be granted that those prejudices could 
 not have been entertained without a cause : the 
 ground of our prejudice then becomes the source of 
 our admiration. But from whatever it proceeds, 
 or whatever it is called, it will not, I hope, be thought 
 presumptuous in me to appear in the train, I cannot 
 say of his imitators, but of his admirers. I have 
 taken another course, one more suited to my abili- 
 ties, and to the taste of the times in which I live. 
 Yet however unequal I feel myself to that attempt, 
 were I now to begin the world again, I would tread 
 in the steps of that great master : to kiss the hem 
 of his garment, to catch the slightest of his perfec- 
 tions, would be glory and distinction enough for an 
 ambitious man. 
 
 I feel a self-congratulation in knowing myself 
 capable of such sensations as he intended to excite. 
 I reflect, not without vanity, that these discourses 
 bear testimony of my admiration of that truly divine 
 
264 The Fifteenth Discourse 
 
 man ; and I should desire that the last words which 
 I should pronounce in this Academy, and from this 
 place, might be the name of — Michael Angelo/ 
 
 ^ Unfortunately for mankind, these were the last words 
 pronounced by this great painter from the Academical chair. 
 He died about fourteen months after this Discourse was 
 delivered. M. 
 
 THE END OF THE DISCOURSES. 
 
 Printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, 
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 Old St. Paul's, 522 
 „ Windsor Castle, 709 
 „ The Admirable Crich- 
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 Alcott's Little Women, and Good 
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 Little Men, 512 
 Alpine Club. Peaks, Passes and 
 
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 Anglo-Saxon Poetry, 794 
 Anson's Voyages, 510 [344 
 Aristophanes' The Acharnians, etc., 
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 Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, 
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 „ Study of Celtic Lit- 
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 Augustine's (Saint) Confessions, 200 
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 Austen's (Jane) Sense and Sensi- 
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 Bates' Naturalist on the Amazons, 
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 479 [561 
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 Human Knowledge, New Theory 
 of Vision, etc., 483 
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 Women, 667 
 
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 Boswell's Life of Johnson, 1, 2 
 
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 etc., 387 
 
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 689 
 
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 Bright's (John) Speeches, 252 
 Bronte's (A.) The Tenant of Wild- 
 fell Hall, 685 
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 243 
 
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 in the English Poets, 493 
 
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 etc., 92 
 
 Browning's Poems, 1833-1844, 41 
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 502 
 
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 556 
 
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 Burns' Poems and Songs, 94 
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 Butler's Analogy of Religion, 90 
 Buxton's Memoirs, 773 
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 566 
 
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 Chretien de Troyes' Eric and Enid, 
 698 
 
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 Cicero's Select Letters and Ora- 
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 109-111 
 
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 Collins' Woman in White, 464 
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 Converse's Long Will, 328 
 Cook's Voyages, 99 
 Cooper's The Deerslayer, 77 
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 Cousin's Biographical Dictionary 
 
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 Cox's Tales of Ancient Greece, 721 
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 Dante's Divine Comedy, 308 
 Darwin's Voyage of the Beagle. 
 
 104 [558 
 Dasent's The Story of Burnt Njal, 
 Daudet's Tartarin of Tarascon, 423 
 Defoe's Robinson Crusoe, 59 
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 „ Journal of Plague, 289 
 De Joinville's Memoirs of the 
 
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 Demosthenes' Select Orations, 546 
 
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 Dennis' Cities and Cemeteries of 
 
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 „ English Mail Coach, 
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 De Retz (Cardinal), Memoirs of, 
 735, 736 
 
 Descartes* Discourse on Method, 
 570 
 
 Dickens* Barnaby Rudge, 76 
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 Child's History of Eng- 
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 Hard Times, 292 
 
 Little Dorrit, 293 
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 536 
 
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 Disraeli's Coningsby, 535 
 Dixon's Fairy Tales from Arabian 
 
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 Dodge's Hans Brinker, or the Silver 
 
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 Dostoieff sky's Crime and Punish- 
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 Life in Siberia, 
 533 
 
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 Underworld, etc., 
 654 
 
 The Idiot, 682 
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 mazov, 802, 803 
 Dowden's Life of R. Browning, 701 
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 Dufferin's Letters from High Lati- 
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 Dumas' The Three Musketeers, 81 
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 Dumas* Twenty Years After, 175 
 
 „ Marguerite de Valois, 326 
 „ The Count of Monte Cristo, 
 
 393 394 
 „ The Forty-Five, 420 
 „ Chicot the Jester, 421 [595 
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 Duruy's History of France, 737, 738 
 
 Edgar*s Cressy and Poictiers, 17 
 „ Runnymede and Lincoln 
 
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 Edgeworth's Castle Rackrent, etc., 
 410 
 
 Edwardes' Dictionary of Non- 
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 Eliot's Adam Bede, 27 
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 Elyot's Gouernour, 227 
 Emerson's Essays, 12 
 
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 567 
 
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 Epictetus* Moral Discourses, etc., 
 404 
 
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 354 
 
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 Euripides* Plays, 63, 271 
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Fletcher's (Beaumont and) Select 
 
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 Freeman's Old English History 
 
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 Henry VHI., 372-374 
 Edward VI., 375 
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 Geoffrey of Monmouth's Histories 
 
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 Gibbon's Roman Empire, 434-436, 
 474-476 
 „ Autobiography, 511 
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 Giraldus Cambrensis, 272 
 Gleig's Life of Wellington, 341 
 
 „ The Subaltern, 708 
 Goethe's Faust (Parts I. and 11.) , 
 335 
 
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 Gogol's Dead Souls, 726 
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 on 
 
Huxley's Man's Place in Nature, 47 
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 Brand, 716 
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 „ Hypatia, 230 
 „ Water Babies and 
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 „ Hereward the Wake, 
 „ Alton Locke, 462 
 
 Yeast, 611 
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 Lady Why, 777 
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 „ Geoffrey Hamlyn, 416 
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 „ Three Midshipmen, 7 
 
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 Law's Serious Call, 91 
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 Lincoln's Speeches, etc., 206 
 Livv's Historv of Rome, 603, 669, 
 
 670, 749, 755, 756 
 Locke's Civil Government, 751 
 Lockhart's Life of Napoleon, 3 
 „ Life of Scott, 55 
 „ Burns, 156 
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 Lonnrott's Kalevala, 259, 260 
 Lover's Handy Andy, 178 
 Lowell's Among My Books, 607 
 Lucretius: Of the Nature of Things, 
 
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 Liitzow's History of Bohemia, 432 
 Lyell's Antiquity of Man, 700 
 Lytton's Harold, 15 
 
 „ Last of the Barons, 18 
 „ Last Days of Pompeii, 80 
 „ Pilgrims of the Rhine, 390 
 „ Rienzi, 532 
 
 Macaulay's England, 34-36 
 „ Essays, 225, 226 
 „ Speeches on Politics, 
 
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 „ Miscellaneous Essays, 
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 MacDonald's Sir Gibbie, 678 
 „ Phantasies, 732 
 Machiavelli's Prince, 280 
 
 „ Florence, 376 
 
 Maine's Ancient Law, 734 
 Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur, 45, 46 
 Malthus on the Principles of 
 
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 Manning's Sir Thomas More, 19 
 „ Mary Powell, and De- 
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 Marcus Aurelius' Golden Book, 9 
 Marlowe's Plays and Poems, 383 
 Marryat's Mr. Midshipman Easy, 82 
 ,, Little Savage, 159 
 „ Masterman Ready, 100 
 
 Peter Simple, 232 
 „ Children of New Forest, 
 247 
 
 „ Percival Keene, 358 
 „ Settlers in Canada, 370 
 „ King's Own, 580 
 Marryat's Jacob Faithful, 618 
 Martineau's Feats on the Fjords, 
 429 
 
 Martinengo-Cesaresco's Folk-Lore 
 and Other Essays, 673 
 
6 
 
 Maurice's Kingaom of Christ, 146, 
 147 
 
 Mazzini's Duties of Man, etc., 224 
 Melville's Moby Dick, 179 
 „ Typee, 180 
 „ Omoo, 297 
 Meri vale's History of Rome, 433 
 Mignet's French Revolution, 713 
 Mill's Utilitarianism, Liberty, Re- 
 presentative Government, 482 
 Miller's Old Red Sandstone, 103 
 Milman's History of the Jews, 377, 
 378 
 
 Milton's Areopagitica and other 
 
 Prose Works, 795 
 Milton's Poems, 384 [545 
 Mommsen's History of Rome, 642- 
 Montagu's (Lady) Letters, 69 
 Montaigne, Florio's, 440-442 
 More's Utopia, and Dialogue of 
 
 Comfort against Tribulation, 461 
 Morier's Hajji Baba, 679 
 Morris' (Wm.) Early Romances, 261 
 „ Life and Death of Jason, 
 575 
 
 Motley's Dutch Republic, 86-88 
 Mulock's John HaUfax, 123 
 
 Neale's Fall of Constantinople, 655 
 Newcastle's (Margaret, Duchess of) 
 Life of the First Duke of New- 
 castle, etc., 722 [636 
 Newman's Apologia Pro Vita Sua, 
 „ On the Scope and Nature 
 of University Educa- 
 tion, and a Paper on 
 Christianity and Sci- 
 entific Investigation, 
 723 
 
 Oliphant's Salem Chapel, 244 
 Osborne (Dorothy), Letters of, 674 
 Owen's A New View of Society, 
 etc., 799 
 
 Paine's Rights of Man, 718 
 Palgrave's Golden Treasurv, 96 
 Paltock's Peter Wilkins, 676 
 Park (Mungo), Travels of, 205 
 Parkman's Conspiracy of Pontiac, 
 302, 303 
 
 Parry's Letters of Dorothy Os- 
 borne, 674 
 
 Paston's Letters, 752, 753 
 
 Paton's Two Morte D'Arthur 
 Romances, 634 
 
 Peacock's Headlong Hall, 327 
 
 Penn's The Peace of Europe, Some 
 Fruits of Sohtude, etc., 724 
 
 Pepys' I)iary, 63, 54 
 
 Percy's Reliques, 148, 149 I 
 Pitt's Orations, 145 \ 
 Plato's Repubhc, 64 !i 
 
 „ Dialogues, 456, 457 
 Plutarch's Lives, 407-409 
 
 „ Moralia, 565 
 Poe's Tales of Mystery and Imag 
 
 ination, 336 
 Poe's Poems and Essays, 791 
 Polo's (Marco) Travels, 306 
 Pope's Complete Poetical Works, 7 6< 
 Prelude to Poetry, 789 
 Prescott's Conquest of Peru, 301 
 
 „ Conquest of Mexico, 397' 
 398 
 
 Procter's Legends and Lyrics, 150 
 
 Rawlinson's Herodotus, 405, 406 
 Reade's The Cloister and th^ 
 Hearth, 29 ! 
 „ Peg Woffington, 299 
 Reid's (Mayne) Boy Hunters of th( 
 
 Mississippi, 582 
 Reid's (Mayne) The Boy Slaves 
 797 
 
 Renan's Life of Jesus, 805 
 
 Reynolds' Discourses, 118 
 
 Rhys' Fairy Gold, 157 
 
 „ New Golden Treasury, 695 
 „ Anthology of British His- 
 torical Speeches and Ora- 
 tions, 714 
 „ Pohtical Liberty, 745 
 „ Golden Treasury of Longer 
 Poems, 746 
 
 Ricardo's Principles of Political^ 
 Economy and Taxation, 590 ; 
 
 Richardson's Pamela, 683, 684 I 
 
 Roberts* (Morley) Western Avernus/ 
 762 
 
 Robertson's Religion and Life, 37 
 „ Christian Doctrine, 38 
 „ Bible Subjects, 39 
 Robinson's (Wade) Sermons, 637 
 Roget's Thesaurus, 630, 631 
 Rossetti's (D. G.) Poems, 627 
 Rousseau's Emile, on Education,! 
 518 
 
 „ Social Contract and 
 
 Other Essays, 660 
 Ruskin's Seven Lamps of Archi-; 
 tecture, 207 
 „ Modern Painters, 208-215| 
 „ Stones of Venice, 213-215 
 „ Unto this Last, etc., 216 \ 
 „ Elements of Drawing, etc., 
 217 
 
 „ Pre-Raphaelitism, etc., 218; 
 „ Sesame and Lilies, 219 
 
Ruskin's Ethics of the Dust, 282 
 „ Crown of Wild Olive, and 
 
 Cestus of Aglaia, 323 
 „ Time and Tide, with other 
 
 Essays, 450 
 „ The Two Boyhoods, 688 
 Russell's Life of Gladstone, 661 
 Russian Short Stories, 758 
 
 Sand's (George) The Devil's Pool, 
 
 and Frani^ois the Waif, 534 
 Scheffel's Ekkehard: A Tale of the 
 
 10th Century, 629 
 Scott's (M.) Tom Cringle's Log, 
 Scott's (Sir W.) Ivanhoe, 16 [710 
 „ Fortunes of Nigel, 71 
 „ Woodstock, 72 
 „ Waverley, 75 
 
 The Abbot, 124 
 „ Anne of Geierstein, 125 
 „ The Antiquary, 126 
 „ Highland Widow, and 
 
 Betrothed, 127 
 „ Black Dwarf, Legend 
 
 of Montrose, 128 
 „ Bride of Lammermoor, 
 129 
 
 „ Castle Dangerous, Sur- 
 geon's Daughter, 130 
 „ Robert of Paris, 131 
 „ Fair Maid of Perth, 132 
 „ Guy Mannering, 133 
 
 Heart of Midlothian, 
 „ Kenilworth, 135 [134 
 „ The Monastery, 136 
 „ Old Mortahty, 137 
 „ Peveril of the Peak, 
 The Pirate, 139 [138 
 „ Quentin Durward, 140 
 „ Redgauntlet, 141 
 Rob Roy, 142 
 St. Ronan's Well, 143 
 „ The Talisman, 144 
 „ Lives of the Novelists, 
 331 [551 
 „ Poems and Plays, 550, 
 Seebohm's Oxford Reformers, 665 
 Seeley's Ecce Homo, 305 
 Sewell's (Anna) Black Beauty, 748 
 Shakespeare's Comedies, 153 
 
 „ Histories, etc., 154 
 
 „ Tragedies, 155 
 
 Shelley's Poetical Works, 257, 258 
 Shelley's (Mrs.) Frankenstein, 616 
 Sheppard's Charles Auchester, 505 
 Sheridan's Plays, 95 
 Sismondi's Italian Reuublics, 250 
 Smeaton's Life of Shakespeare, 514 
 Smith's A Dictionary of Dates, 554 
 
 7 
 
 Smith's Wealth of Nations, 412, 4 J9 
 Smith's (George) Life of Wm. 
 
 Carey, 395 
 Smith's (Sir Wm.) Smaller Classical 
 
 Dictionary, 495 
 Smollett's Roderick Random, 790 
 Sophocles, Young's, 114 
 Southey's Life of Nelson, 52 
 Speke's Source of the Nile, 50 
 Spence's Dictionary of Non-Classi- 
 
 cai Mvthology, 632 
 Spencer's (Herbert) Essays on Edu- 
 cation, 504 
 Spenser's Faerie Queene, 443, 444 
 Spinoza's Ethics, etc., 481 
 Spyri's Heidi, 431 [89 
 Stanley's Memorials of Canterbury, 
 
 „ Eastern Church, 251 
 Steele's The Spectator, 164-167 
 Sterne's Tristram Shandy, 617 
 Sterne's Sentimental Journey and 
 
 Journal to Eliza, 796 
 Stevenson's Treasure Island and 
 Kidnapped, 763 
 „ Master of Ballantrae 
 and the Black Arrow, 
 764 
 
 „ Virgin ibus Puerisque 
 and Familiar Studies 
 of Men and Books, 
 765 
 
 „ An Inland Voyage, 
 Travels with a Don- 
 key, and Silverado 
 Squatters, 766 
 
 „ Dr. Jekyll and Mr. 
 
 Hyde, ' The Merry 
 Men, etc., 767 
 
 „ Poems, 768 
 
 „ In the South Seas and 
 Island Nights' Enter- 
 tainments, 769 
 St. Francis, The Little Flowers of, 
 etc., 485 
 
 Stopford Brooke's Theology in the 
 
 Enghsh Poets, 493 
 Stow's Survey of London, 589 
 Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin, 371 
 Strickland's Queen Ehzabeth, 100 
 Swedenborg's Heaven and Hell, 379 
 „ Divine Love and 
 
 Wisdom, 635 
 „ Divine Providence, 
 
 Swift's Gulliver's Travels, 60 [653 
 „ Journal to Stella, 757 
 „ Tale of a Tub, etc., 347 
 Tacitus' Annals, 273 
 
 „ Agricola andGermania,274 
 Taylor's Words and Places, 517 
 
8 
 
 Tennyson's Poems, 44, 626 
 Thackeray's Esmond, 73 
 „ Vanity Fair, 298 
 „ Christmas Books, 359 
 „ Pendennis, 425, 426 
 „ Newcomes, 465, 466 
 „ The Virgmians, 507, 508 
 „ English Humorists, and 
 The Four Georges, 610 
 Roundabout Papers, 687 
 Thierry's Norman Conquest, 198, 
 Thoreau's Walden, 281 [199 
 Thucydides' Peloponnesian War, 
 455 
 
 Tolstoy's Master and Man, and 
 Other Parables and 
 Tales, 469 
 „ War and Peace, 525-527 
 „ Childhood, Boyhood and 
 
 Youth, 591 
 „ Anna Karenina, 612, 613 
 Trench's On the Study of Words and 
 
 English Past and Present, 788 
 Trollope's Barchester Towers, 30 
 „ Framley Parsonage, 181 
 „ Golden Lion of Granpere, 
 „ The Warden, 182 [761 
 „ Dr. Thorne, 360 
 „ Small House at AUington, 
 361 [391, 392 
 
 „ Last Chronicles of Barset, 
 Trotter's The Bayard of India, 396 
 „ Hodson, of Hodson's 
 
 Horse, 401 
 „ Warren Hastings, 452 
 Turgeniev's Virgin Soil, 528 
 „ Liza, 677 
 
 „ Fathers and Sons, 742 
 
 Tyndall's Glaciers of the Alps, 98 
 Tytler's Principles of Translation, 
 168 
 
 Vasari's Lives of the Painters, 
 784-7 
 
 Verne's (Jules) Twenty Thousand 
 Leagues under the 
 Sea, 319 
 „ Dropped from the 
 
 Clouds, 367 
 „ Abandoned, 368 [369 
 „ The Secret of the Island, 
 „ Five Weeks in a Balloon 
 and Around the World 
 in Eighty Days, 779 
 Virgil's yEneid, 161 
 
 „ Eclogues and Georgics, 222 
 Voltaire's Life of Charles XII., 270 
 „ Age of Louis XIV., 780 
 
 Wace and Layamon's Arthurian 
 
 Chronicles, 578 
 Walpole's Letters, 775 
 Walton's Cornpleat Angler, 70 
 Waterton's W^anderings in South 
 
 America, 772 
 Wesley's Journal, 105-108 
 White's Selborne, 48 
 Whitman's Leaves of Grass (I.) 
 
 and Democratic Vistas, etc., 673 
 Whyte-Melville's Gladiators, 623 
 Wood's (Mrs. Henry) TheChannings, 
 Woolman's Journal, etc., 402 [84 
 Wordsworth's Shorter Poems, 203 
 „ Longer Poems, 311 
 
 Wright's An Encyclopaedia of Gar- 
 dening, 555 
 
 Xenophon's Cjnropaedia, 672 
 
 Yonge's The Dove in the Eagle's 
 Nest, 329 [330 
 „ The Book of Golden Deeds, 
 „ The Heir of Redclyffe, 362 
 „ The Little Duke, 470 
 ,, The Lances of Lynwood, 579 
 Young's (Arthur) Travels in France 
 
 and Italy, 720 
 Young's (Sir George) Sophocles, 114 
 
 The New Testament, 93. 
 Ancient Hebrew Literature, 4 vols., 253-256. 
 English Short Stories. An Anthology, 743. 
 Everyman's English Dictionary, 776 
 
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